Our War
by IceMonsta
Summary: Malfoy is forced back to Hogwarts to finish his 7th year and to spy for the Dark Lord, but did not expect working together with a Mudblood for war. During his eager duties to help destroy the school for Voldemort, something else triggers his actions that makes him want to help the school. Could it be just his change, or the brown-haired witch that gives him O's in his studies?
1. Prolouge

~0~

Beneath the shadowed sky,

People frantically run,

With frightens of our cries,

The war had just begun.

Sparks and flashes fill the air,

As woman scream and cry,

Their little children run from scare,

But soon are struck, and die.

Blood splatters on my shirt,

As they attacked near me,

But as a woman I stood unhurt,

And aimed my weapon at he.

Fired and fired he shot at me,

But, still, I did not stand down.

My courage raced away for flee,

But I held it back to the ground.

Pain struck my pale, cream cheek,

As he beat me like I was meat,

He punched like a horrendous freak,

As I didn't slump in defeat.

Before one last beat to me,

I clenched my eyes shut,

But I felt nothing on my cheek,

For it never came to struck.

I opened my eyes to see,

A blurry, vision of ice eyes,

I felt hot tears trickle down me,

As I began to happily beam.

He had saved me from evil,

When I was about to die

He killed him for retrieval,

For me, myself, and I.

He cradled me in his chest,

As I could smell mint again,

I leaned my ear to his breast,

And heard his heartbeat like a wren.

He put his hands on my face,

As he stroked the tears away.

His ice eyes melted in me with grace,

And he told me it was going to be Ok.

I didn't know if I could trust him,

With all the sadness in his eyes,

As soon as I said the chance was thin,

He placed his lips on mine.

~0~


	2. Home

** Our War**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter because my name is not J.K. Rowling.

**A/N**: I'm SO sorry I didn't publish the 1st chapter! I had finals coming up, and I was so busy! I'm so sorry. Since school was starting again, I had to be more in depth with school, and not writing. (Stupid, I know lol) But anyway, here it is! I think I will publish this chapter and the one or two more now, because I have such a long weekend so I'm really excited! More "Dramione action" will happen soon! (That sounded weird) Once again, I'm so VERY sorry for the extreme delay, and hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 1: Home

Many people often say that if we don't end war, war will end us. Everything we had, remembered, and everything we wanted would be destroyed. But also, everything we were, and everyone we loved would be lost. In real life, there is no fantasy, or happy endings. Only movies explain who is right, but in real life, war does not determine who is right-only who is left.

While we all grieve, and mourn from the ghostly loss of our loved ones, we sometimes have the feeling of regretting over the losses of our loathed ones.

* * *

Hermione bolted upright in her bed as slight beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Her wild curls waved about like a dog as she gripped her imaginary wand in her hand. She glanced to her side as she observed her shrieking alarm clock roaring her awake from the frantic nightmare. She let a breath of relief as she clicked off the annoying timer and plopped her head back into the pillows as she gaped up at the ceiling.

_Just another bad dream,_ she sighed in her head as she licked her dry lips.

She remembered seeing the great walls of Hogwarts toppling over, as its sides were clothed with fire. She faintly bequeathed tears running down her face as the whole area was flooded with blood, flashes, Death Eaters, and Dementors. She ran from a Death Eater, but she couldn't run, as it felt as if the man tried to "Accio" her into his grasp and kill her. Then, there was a screeching scream that flooded her ears…

_Why do I keep having these nightmares?_

The frizz-haired witch couldn't bare to think that that was going to happen in the future. But obviously, Snape had already killed Dumbledore last year, and it would be more likely a chance that there would be war; with Dumbledore gone, Hogwarts lost its hope.

Hermione shuffled to the burgundy bathed drapes and peeled them apart anxiously, hoping for a sunny day.

Darkness was all she saw.

Sad clouds covered above Hogwart's head, coloring the sky with its grey, melancholy, gloom. For about a mile, it seemed, nothing looked happy. Not the trees, not the houses, nor the grass. The showering drops of water toppled down like acid rain; it molded everything and killed anything in its path.

Hermione sighed. It had never been sunny and exultant since Professor Dumbledore had deceased. Every student, and teacher had turned morose and less sociable after the incident, and Hermione wished nothing like that would have happened.

Since the war had begun, the halls of Hogwarts seemed so lonely, and cold. The halls were like darkened caves, even with about the same amount of people from 6 th year.

The Daily Prophet constantly pasted news of the death of Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. '_Albus Dumbledore_', the paper would show, '_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has died. What will happen to the school now?'_ Pictures would show Dumbledore, with his scraggly white beard, and his twinkling blue eyes welcoming first years from one year ago.

Professor Snape was now head of Hogwarts.

Well, it seemed.

But he was barely at Hogwarts, and only occasionally visited to make sure nothing secret was going on. But, there always was.

_Bugger_.

She slowly plodded to the shower, to hopefully ease the aches and pains her body, and mind contained. She hopped into the shower drenching her curly hair with the balmy water. Steam filled the bathroom, fogging the mirrors slightly and staining the air with the scent of her body wash.

Hermione sighed with relief as the warm water soothed the stiffness in her arms and back, but she still did not feel the relief in her mind. Showers couldn't fix that.

But what could?

* * *

"Please dear, it will be the best for you," the bleach blonde coped to her son with her eyes slightly glistening from her slight tears. She kept her eyes on his bent head, and studied his neatly groomed, blonde hair. She grasped his cold hands in her steel black leather gloves. She looked up into his eyes as his cold face turned away, denying.

Her lower lip trembled as she placed her hand on his cheek and turned him to face her lost face. "Draco," she pleaded. She leered into his abstruse, ice eyes, and barely trembled by the look he gave her. A slight scowl, and a death glance killed the blonde woman's heart piece by piece.

The boy, coated with a melancholy jet-black suit, poised there as still as a statue as his mother hopelessly gave up. She let out a defeated sigh and dropped her hands by her sides as her throat itched to cry out hopeless sobs.

Draco wished that his mother would just leave him alone and stop talking him into that buggering school. Everyone in that school, except for the Slytherins, loathed him for the about that odious… order he was forced to do.

Couldn't those prats see that he was sodding forced to do it?

He could care less about following rules from that unnerving cat, McGonagall.

The sound of echoing footsteps rang through the cold, lurid, melancholy halls of the manor as Lucius stalked in toward the two. "What is this?" He stomped over to the two of them, studying his sobbing wife first.

"Oh, God, my dear, what happened?" He took her face gently in his rough, bulky hands and studied her face carefully.

"Lucius," she gasped out. Narcissa placed her hands, gently on his wrists and gaped in her husband's dead eyes desperately.

"Draco needs to go back to Hogwarts," she bit out as best she could, her lips trembling from the hurt in her soul from her son.

Lucius studied her carefully and let out a slight chuckle, but kept his eyes on her. "Hogwarts?" he repeated to her as she nodded sadly. "You've got to be joking. Do you see what he tried to do? There is no way the teachers would- "

"Lucius," she interrupted.

"-allow him there. You would have to beg the school to let him stay for another MONTH! Why on earth would you-"

"LUCIUS!" she incredulity shouted in his face, immediately making his features turn back to a frown.

Draco's head shot up from the portent of the yelling. He gaped at his panting mother, and then his father who had a disillusioned look carved on his old face.

Merlin knew if the tension in Narcissa's heart was enough to make her kill the Dark Lord, but Draco knew her. He knows that every time his father torture him from the coldness of the Dark Lord, and Lucius's speck of a heart, his mother was there.

Watching.

Drenched in blood, and his suit ripped in shreds clinging to the dishabille rips of his flesh as he was shoved against the wall, she was watching. Sobbing, and tears gushing down her face. Her eyes were parched and red, screaming at her heartless husband to stop. But he couldn't. The pressure of being a true Deatheater was unstoppable, and if he didn't learn them, torturing was earned. All that time, screaming, torture, blood, red, flesh, pain, gorge… love, she was there.

Narcissa peered down, still locking hands with her husband. After a few seconds of deep taciturnity, Narcissa looked up into his eyes despairingly and licked her lips.

_"Bugger to hell," _Draco hissed in his mind, knowing that his predictable mother would beg for anything to get her son educated again.

"Please," she begged, "for me, and your son's sake."

* * *

"What?!" He hissed in fury. "What sort of a stupid idea is this?" His mouth curved almost into a smile, as he wrapped lengthy fingers around his wand.

"M-my Lord," Narcissa trembled as she tightly gripped Lucius's hand. "I just thought that Draco might need to finish, and to-"

"Learn?" He questioned with his icy tone. He rose up from his chair pacing the space in front of him. "Narcissa, I went to Hogwarts; however, I never really did learn anything about how magic was casually used. That is why I am here now! I didn't follow the fool's ways like that old hag, Dumbledore. " He barked making the manor echo in his frustration. "The professors there were weak!" He spit the words like venom stuck in his mouth. "Pathetic, and hopeless!" His anger made a portrait of Draco crash to the floor, making the sparkling glass spill everywhere.

Narcissa gasped at the mess he had created to the beautiful portrait, as her husband squeezed her hand in comfort as he grimaced to the anger of the Dark Lord.

The whole room seemed to lose tension as Voldemort sat down slowly on his snaked throne. His ghostly cape seemed to have settled down, as he did.

"Nagini," he hissed like a whisper.

The aphotic snake slithered up to its master while whispering her haunting language to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort absently stroked the snake's head, as he hissed back the language. He then looked up back to the couple, which looked scared, and desperate.

"Nagini tells me that we have to fight soon. The sooner we attack Hogwarts, the better. In this case, we could use Draco other than being a one in a million fighter for us…" he trailed off enigmatically as he faced his beloved snake again. She whispered something to him, as her tongue hissed like she was giggling.

Long silence struck the Dark Lord when he suddenly stood up, Nagini trailing next to him.

"Fine then. He may go to Hogwarts School," he spat softly and raised his finger before anyone even breathed. "On one condition," he hissed, his features framing into somewhat like a murderer's.

"A-anything, my Lord," Narcissa shook as chills ran down her spine.

"He must..." He put his finger down slowly, "somewhat, observe Hogwarts for me. As in, telling me pinpoints where I can hit the heart of Hogwarts," he drew closer at the ground.

"Now," he hissed, a smirk developing on his face, "we are even."

* * *

**A/N**: Okeyyy… Sorry if it was short, but I promise they will be longer! Ermmm.. this was pretty much my first chapter sooo I'm really excited! Hope you all enjoyed! J Please review, because I LOVE to hear what you guys think. Please do not take any part of my story, or plot without giving me the credit; so what I'm trying to say is please don't plagiarize my stuff. Alrighty! I love you guys!

Xxxxxxxxxxx~ Ice Monsta


	3. Pain

**Our War**

**A/N:** Hey guys! I feel so happy making up the stories to you, so here's the second chapter,technically. I've found out drinking Mountain Dew, and chewing gum while writing, helps you write better! Lol so here's chapter 2, and I hope you guys enjoy! :)

**Disclaimer:** If I owned the Harry Potter series, I'd be a multi-millionaire. Obviously I'm not a multi-millionaire, so let me off the hook... please? But siriusly I don't own the Harry Potter series..

Chapter 2: Pain

He twirled the rose in his hand for the hundredth time it seemed. The black rose seemed so perfect in his pale hands, so bright, and clear compared to the complexion of his hand. He stared up at his liquid-dropped window, as the clear drops from the sky lightly pattered on his window, like they begged to be let in. Draco took a step toward the window, and gaped into the grey sky, while his hot breath ghosted across the window.

Draco never really thought what it would be like to be free, alone, or with a family of his own. It was never a perfect life for him. When he was in the first 5 years of Hogwarts, he felt like the luckiest kid alive. Anything he wanted was offered to him, except his own rules.

Now, as a 17 year old teen, life had changed, Hogwarts had changed.

Everything did.

His daily routine would stick to training with his father, getting scolded at, fighting with his parents, saying his daily praises to his master, and feeling the lonely, dark pit engulf his soul everyday _dying_ day. Draco would occasionally look in his mirror, slightly rayed by the antique candles that lit up his bathroom. There, all he would see was a vague, useless shadow.

Driven mad, and a waste.

Forced, and was like a puppet to his father.

_He cursed at the sky mentally as he got into another fight with his mother and father._

_"You need to learn the rules, Draco! You work for the Dark Lord now! If we disappoint him just by a finger, he will kill us all! You are messing this up for us!" his father roared at him, thrusting a punch at his face, as Draco tasted blood. His cheek was bruised for sure, and he felt his head throbbing to the beat of his heart._

_His face showed no cowardice, no pain, and no forgiveness._

_Narcissa gently grabbed her husband's arm._

_"Dear, please… stop. You're hurting him…" she tried to grab is balled fist, but he shook her off and shoved her roughly on the ground as she grimaced to the pain._

_"There's no way in which he gets mercy! I've treat him like I want to and you can't stop me, Narcissa!" he shouted in her face, as the familiar drops of salty water drew down her cheeks._

_He faced to Draco again who was looking at him, dead cold in his eyes. Draco's hair was mused, and messy, stained with gray smudges from the ground. His mouth curved into a deathly shape._

_"Don't you ever treat mother that way!" he hissed as he shot a spell to his father's chest. "EXPULSO!"_

_A purple flame shot out of his wand and kicked Lucius square in the chest as he went flying and struck the ground groaning in pain._

_Draco ran to the side by his mother and hugged her, and rubbing soothing circles on her back as she sobbed her eyes out._

_"It's alright mother," he hushed her, but suddenly, he felt a strong, monstrous force send him flying and squirming in pain. It felt as if all the blood in his veins ran up to his brain, and it hurt like hell._

_He groaned in pain as he looked up, seeing a blurry vision of an angry man, with an unevenly trimmed beard._

_"Being nice isn't what is important for a Pureblood," he explained bending down over Draco._

_Draco tried moving, but it seemed as if his limbs and arms were glued to the ground. He squirmed and tried moving any body part he could, but he was trapped. He saw the tip of his father's brown wand pointing at his chest._

_Draco could hear audible sounds of his mother screaming at Lucius, but he couldn't exactly make it out since his mind was fogged up from the curse. His head throbbed even more to the sounds of screeching._

_"It only matters if you have the guts to prove that you are a true Pureblood, like so," he pointed his wand deeper into his chest._

_Draco looked up at his immoral father and braced his soul for what was going to happen._

_"Crucio,"_

_Draco's eyes widened in horror. The pain was unbearable. His eyes clamped shut from the scorching pain, and his teeth gritted so hard against each other, that he thought he chipped half his tooth. It felt like a billion knifes struck his arms, legs, and chest. His stomach twisted to the agony of the excruciating curse. He resisted the urge to groan out in pain, but the pain felt even stronger as his father struck again. He couldn't even hear anything except a shrill ringing in his ears, and his eyes were clouded with discomfort._

_It was after 1 minute when the pain stopped, and Draco found himself barely alive, and his whole body was covered with wet, and salty perspiration. He couldn't move, and it felt like every bone in his body was broken. All his nerves seemed to have burst in the scorching pain, and he felt numb all over. He saw a smiling Voldemort a couple feet away, nodding at a slightly apologetic Lucius._

He remembered that time when he was so mentally aching, he wanted to hurt himself.

He wanted to hurt himself _bad_.

He promised himself he would do it soon.

The barely man, looked down from the window, appalled from the nasty memory of his first experience with that curse, and from his father. He twirled the rose one more time, and placed it on the window bed slowly. He took one more glimpse up at the nebulous sky then turned his heel, and stalked off to the door.

Draco absently left his room silently stalking about the manor, searching for his mother.

He did not want to go to Hogwarts. Period.

That sodding school was old, rotten and useless anyway. He would look like a bloody traitor and useless among the students. The teachers most likely wouldn't allow it. He wished that the Dark Lord would just deny the request that Draco's mother wanted; however, Draco did not want to argue with his loving mother. She had gone enough stress through all the consolidated trouble. Fighting would have to wait a long time.

"Mother?" Draco called out, his deep voice rumbling in anxiety.

He wanted nothing more than to stay home instead of going to that school.

On top of that, he didn't want to see Potter, Weasley, and that… Mudblood. The Golden Trio was the last thing Draco needed. The Scarhead "popular guy" who gave him a permanent scar sliced across his stomach, the penniless, ginger, blood traitor, and that filthy Mudblood, snotty, stuck-up, know-it-all. She was probably the worst of them all. Draco shook his head to erase them off his mind, and continued tracing his path to find his mother.

After walking to the Dark Lord's room, and then his mother's, he finally found her, in the living room sitting on her gold chair.

Her eyes looked tired and puffy, and there were sags under eyes from all the crying, and of old age. Her right temple was leaned against her white knuckles, and she found Draco with her lost eyes.

"Draco, dear," she cooed out as he eagerly walked over to her.

_Damn it. _She was_ smiling._

"Mother," Draco started. "What-"

"You're going to Hogwarts to finish!" she barely squealed clasping his hands in her wrinkly ones. "Isn't this marvelous?"

He had never seen his mother this happy before. He liked it, but _bloody sodding hell._

"H-hogwarts," he repeated in disbelief.

That was it. He couldn't handle it anymore.

His face carved in to an angry, betrayed shadow and he yanked his hand back storming to the nearest portrait of him. He didn't give a _damn_ if his mother was going to get angry. He yelled in frustration and agony as he tore off the gold trimming portrait off the wall and chucked it at the ground. Pieces of glass shards cut little slits into his hands, but he didn't care. He stared down at the mess he made, clenching his teeth together, digging his nails into his palms until he was sure they bled and was panting hard. He needed to let off his steam he had been holding in for months. He felt as if the whole world stopped and watched him, and it was still, and quiet.

He felt foolish all the sudden. He felt like a 2-year-old toddler throwing a tantrum because he didn't get what he wanted.

His eyes then shot up at his mother who was already crying again, and her right hand planted over her chest, as she heaved in little gasps of air as she studied him and the mess and swallowed.

"Draco," she whimpered. "Why would-"

"Mother. I told you already that I don't want to go to the bloody school." He hissed as dark shades contoured his pale face, and his perfect structure. "Everyone there knows I'm a sodding-"

"Dear, I'm sorry, but even if I declined, the Dark Lord still would make you go," she murmured as she studied the mess in disbelief. The cracked portrait, it seemed, of a young Draco, perhaps about 5 years old, holding hands with a beautiful, youthful Narcissa. They both looked happy, and bland.

Draco's breaths of air gradually slowed down as he studied his mother. "What do you mean?" he questioned a little less harshly.

Narcissa sighed and looked down as she hesitated. "He wants you to spy for him."

She still looked at her hands, which were grasping each other. She then let her eyes trail up to her son's disbelieving eyes. He looked like he was about to faint. He had his mouth slightly parted and his ice eyes gaping at the ground, as he blinked a couple times to clear his mind.

_Spy? A-gain?_

"I just talked to Professor McGonagall, and I convinced, and lied to her enough that you won't do anything bad. She let you in, so-"

"That old cat doesn't care about me-"

"Just live with it, Draco," she pleaded. "Severus is Headmaster now, and he knows what we are doing," she informed him.

He clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, his lips covering so his mother wouldn't see his mental aches.

"Why does the Dark Lord need me to spy?" he questioned softly still looking at the ground in front of him.

Narcissa could see what he felt like, by just observing his slumped shoulders, and his way of talking. She inhaled, her breath slightly shaking.

"He wants to destroy Hogwarts once and for all."

* * *

School would technically start tonight, but Hermione itched to get there anyway. For her, the earlier, the better. She had already been here for about 2 days, helping out with whatever she could. Hermione strolled the corridors, going to the library to quench her thirst for learning again.

Even when she was going to search for Horcruxes this year, studying would always help. Her black shoes tapped across the stone floor, and echoed around the vacant corridor. She would murmur her quick greetings to the few professors passing by her in the halls, and flashed a quick smile for them. When she finally reached the library, she skimmed the vast shelf full of books, looking for a book filled with an immense amount of facts she didn't know yet.

She immediately thought back to how Harry, Ron, and she were just kids, always into mischief. Then her smile disappeared. She suddenly remembered that she had to meet Ron and Harry early this morning.

_"Bugger,"_ she cursed in her mind, quickly scampering out of Hogwarts's doors to Hagrid's Hut with an assembly of books cradled in her arms.

The rain had stopped, but the sky was still gloomy, and dark. The mud squished beneath her with every leap she took. She silently cursed when some of the material sprayed on her washed skirt.

When she reached there she had the urge to burst through his rackety, wood door, but remembering that that would be impolite. She hesitantly stuffed all her book onto one arm while gently rapping on the door with the other. She waited eagerly for the door to open, and to apologize for being late.

The oak, primeval door opened slowly, and Hermione was welcomed by a redheaded, grown male. Hermione's eyes brightened as her best friend stood there by the door, smiling with red freckles pecking his cheeks.

"It's about time you came here Hermione," he joked as Hermione playfully hit his arm.

"Sorry. I kind of had my mind set on a bunch of school stuff," she explained heaving the books up in her arms to balance them.

Ron gaped down at the amount of books she had in her arms.

"You're saying _this _is more important than us?" he gestured his hand to the amount of books piled up against her chest.

Hermione grinned at his slight humor. "No, I- "

"Hiya, Hermione," a jet-black haired man greeted her by the door also.

"Oh, hi Harry. Sorry I'm late," she checked her watch ad then looked around curiously. "Where's Hagrid?" she asked walking over to the window, peering inside on her tiptoes.

"Oh, he's not here right now, but he let us use his hut," Harry explained, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh," Hermione replied walking back to the door. Then she stopped walking and faced the ground.

"Wait. Why did you need to use his hut? You could of talked about it in the Great Hall or something," she questioned peering at both of them.

Ron and Harry turned their heads to each other hesitantly, and Harry nodded, sighing. Hermione studied them each carefully, and she knew they were hiding something.

"Come," Harry gestured inside the house. "Close the windows, Ron," he murmured to Ron as Hermione started anxiously strut into the small hut.

She saw Ron use his wand to securely shut the windows, and mutter a Muffilato spell. Now she was extremely curious. She took a seat on one of the pink cushioned chairs, which was too big for her, but she didn't care. She set her book in a big pile in front of her, and keenly stared at both of the men standing in front of her, looking quite uncomfortable.

"Well?" she intently questioned them, trying to sit up as straight as she could in the vast chair.

Harry peered at Ron, and then faced Hermione, with one hand behind his neck. He breathed in hesitantly.

"Okay, so you know we are going to search for Horcruxes soon right?" Harry asked feeling his gut drown with regret.

Hermione looked at Harry carefully, and then Ron, who looked nervous in his eyes, but his body showed no fear. His eyes where dilated, and his bottom lip kept pursing out occasionally. She looked back at Harry and nodded. "Yes, what about it?"

Harry released his hand from he back of his neck and looked straight into Hermione's chocolate, brown eyes.

"Well, "we" isn't exactly including you," he breathed out.

Hermione thought she had heard him wrong. She shook her head at the raggedy floor and let out a short chuckle as she gazed up at them both.

"I'm sorry?" she said as her slight grin turned a little serious again.

She felt the tension in the room. It was like a little rubber band being stretched too far.

Ron finally had the courage to speak up.

"Hermione," he sighed looking at his best friend. "Only Harry and I are going to search for the Horcruxes. You have to stay."

Snap.

Hermione blinked a couple of times, and faced them. Her mouth curved into other ways like she was trying to say something, but it never came out.

"W- what?" she stammered smiling. "You've got to be joking," she gaped at them both, but didn't see a sign of any of them being sarcastic.

"I'm sorry Hermione," flowed Harry's words.

Hermione's grin disappeared and she looked at the ground trying to stifle back her tears, and anger. Her throat felt caught in knots, like when someone's about to cry. Her heart burned in resentment, as her chest heaved gulps of air, trying to block the words she heard.

"W-why?" she gasped out, as she felt her nose start to run from the tears.

Harry kneeled by her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione..."

She looked up, her eyes filled with fury, and her cheeks flushed from her boiling rage. She swatted his hand away as she stood up facing both of them.

"How could you?" she whimpered desperately.

The boys felt their stomachs drop, as she was angry, and hurt, knowing that they have disappointed their best friend.

Harry reached for her again but she backed up, shaking her head.

She had gone through all that training for nothing? How could they be so immature in thinking that she can't fight for them too? She would not be called a third wheel for this sake.

_Sodding_ mistake.

"You _have_ to let me go," she pleaded hopelessly. "I-it's what I've trained for."

"Hermione," Ron comforted, "you have to stay. You will be safer here, and-"

_"Ron!"_ she wheezed tears barely coming out of her eyes. "I'm not a hopeless, little girl from all those years ago. All those years we've gone through-"

"Hermione," Ron started.

"you're just going to throw it all away?! I _want_ to fight!" she yelled.

"Hermione, calm down," Harry raised his voice, but soothingly.

Hermione glared at Harry. "And _you_!" she shoved her finger at him. "Remember last year, when you said we will be together in this? Did you promise me that right now?" she stared at his troubled face, obviously seeing that he remembered that moment. Ron looked at him with disbelief, as everything got quiet.

Harry looked up at Hermione's watery, cocoa eyes and hugged her. She felt herself tense up more, but Harry's warm embrace calmed her down. Hermione closed her eyes as she deliberately hugged back, remembering them as friends, from such a long time ago. Such little kids, but now, up to this.

"I said that because I know you won't give up on anything. You are Hermione Granger, and Hogwarts needs you in these times of struggles. I'm not saying that you can't go because your feeble, or you're a girl. I just want you to help Hogwarts for us. While we go finding Horcruxes, you will keep the school busy from all their daily worries," he comforted her next to her ear.

Hermione felt warm tears stream down her cheeks, as she kept her eyes closed.

"Besides, without the us three, the school will be completely boring," he added with a playful grin.

Hermione felt herself chuckle a little bit as tears ran down her cream cheek again.

He let her go and gripped her arms softly, viewing her face. "Will you promise us to take good care of Hogwarts while we're gone?"

Hermione stared into Harry's striking green eyes, and then peered at a smiling Ron. She looked up back at Harry and sniffled, "Okay, I promise," she smiled.

"Don't tell anyone where we are at, or else we could be hunted down. You know how fast rumors spread here,"

"But, McGonagall… she ought to know, or Slughorn, Flitwick-"

"They all know, except for Snape of course,"

She sluggishly smiled. "Okay. I promise."

Harry grinned in delight as he looked back at Ron.

Ron sulked and took his hands out of his pockets and lifted them in the air.

"Hey, don't keep me waiting here." He sighed sarcastically as he inspected over at Hermione.

She leered and treaded over to Ron embracing him tightly. Her words were muffled, but still clear whilst hugging Ron. "Just promise me to be safe," she pleaded.

She never wanted to lose her best friends. From that first year when she found them on the bus, stuffing their faces with goodies, she knew they were a couple of idiots, but they were funny, and charming that way. They were her only friends at the beginning. She couldn't lose them.

Ever.

Ron wrapped his bulky arms around Hermione tighter and closed his eyes.

"We promise."

The redhead and brunette let go of each other and beamed.

"When are you leaving?" she inquired, facing Harry.

He frowned, running his fingers through his messy, tousled hair.

"Today."

* * *

Later, when the sky was painted randomly with salmon pink, and orange clouds, and when the birds were saying their "goodnights", the trio met in front of the hut again. The night seemed so decent for leaving two best friends, never knowing if they would come back alive or not. The air was humid from the rainstorm the morning had mailed in, but the sun beamed through the clouds for a little while, until it would sink behind the mountains.

Hermione frowned at seeing the two boys heaving 3 trunks at one time.

"Guys…"

But before she said anything the two of them tumbled over on the hill, making all their supplies crash, and Hermione pursed her lips at the sight.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron fumed grimacing when his trunk landed on him.

"Hey, watch it. You're the one who almost broke my arm!" Harry countered.

Hermione giggled at the humor of the two boys fighting.

She was going to miss this.

She was going to miss this a lot.

"Harry, Ron," she started again, "instead of carrying 3 trunks at once," she pulled out a red, beaded bag.

Ron stood up, gaping at the bag as he wiped the dirt off his pants.

"What in the bloody hell-"

"Well, maybe if you _read_, and charmed one of these, you could be bringing all of that," she pointed at the trunks, "in here," she gestured at the bag and tossed it to them.

Hermione crossed her arms as she watched the boys try to figure out how it worked. After, it seemed, like hours, the boys finally packed everything into the little, antique bag.

Harry laughed in embarrassment. "Thanks, Hermione,"

Ron laughed along too, "Yup, thank you,"

Hermione nodded, as she smiled. She looked at them both up and down and took a huge breath.

"So, are you ready?" she asked as her heart felt weak again.

"Never," replied Harry. "We're never ready without you."

Hermione looked at the ground and smiled. She trailed up to the boys and hugged them both. She knew this was going to be, in a long time, the last hug she would get from her two best friends.

She wasn't ready.

But she had to let them go.

"Promise you'll write," she asked.

"We will."

"Promise to be safe,"

"We will."

She looked at them both.

"Okay, I'm ready."

The boys nodded their heads in agreement.

"Take care of yourself, Hermione" Ron alleged gently.

Hermione nodded wiping at the tears piercing at the tips of her eyes.

"Promise to come back," she said, tears choking her throat again.

"We promise," they said smiling.

She sighed in a shaky breath and looked at them one last time; Harry's jet-black hair, and Ron's ginger waves.

And within a second, they were gone.

* * *

"Bloody…" cursed Draco when he plucked the last shard of glass out of his finger from the portrait mess.

He peered up at the elderly clock, and stalked back into his room to get ready for his… so called mission. He tore of his black suit, and chucked it at the laundry basket, which automatically started washing it self. He picked out a new shadowy filled suit and frantically heaved them on his body. He positioned his tie, whilst scanning the room for anything else he needed.

He summoned a couple more pieces of clothing with his wand, as he wandered about his room, looking for anything obligatory to bring. He was about to abscond the room with the expensive leather briefcase in his hand, when something made him stop.

He turned around slowly, and eyed a picture at his desk; the photo was not directly the center of attention, and was hidden behind masses of books. He enquiringly stalked over to the moving picture, dropping the briefcase on his bed. He picked up the picture, and narrowed his eyes on it.

It was he and his father.

Except his father was not irate, nor livid in this picture.

He was smiling.

Like nothing happened in those past 2 years.

Lucius was holding up, as it seemed, a 1-year-old Draco in his huge hands.

Draco couldn't help but smile when he observed the picture. He stuffed the picture in his pocket and checked the room one more time. Positively sure he didn't forget anything; he cast a spell to shut down his room and exited the house.

The whoosh of the Apparition cracked the silence of the Hogwarts school grounds. Draco's face turned into a scowl as he landed on the wet ground, with mud splattered across his pants.

_"Sod it,"_ he cursed muttering a spell as he pointed his wand at the muddled mess, while it vanished from his jet-black suit.

He shoved his wand back into his pocket and looked around him, seeing his warm breath tarnish the bitter air.

Hogwarts _had_ changed.

No longer were there towering lights that warmed up the castle, and everything around it. It didn't feel blissful, or ecstatic at all.

"Traitor," he growled irritably under his breath as the lofty, ancient doors of Hogwarts exposed for him.

His brain replayed it in his mind.

_Traitor._

_Traitor._

_Bloody traitor._

_"Shut up_," he hissed to no one as he darkly stalked into the school. His immediate impulse was to go directly to the aged cat's office to go promptly to his room so he wouldn't have to deal with the stupid students, nagging him about the sodding incident.

As he entered the inside of Hogwarts, it took a whole new step from outside. The walls were not dark, nor as isolated as the exterior. The torches seemed to beam against the stonewalls, echoing light throughout the whole corridor. It seemed like nothing changed inside. Even the floating candles were repaired and once again soaring across the ceilings.

He could tell how desperate these people were to keep this castle in shape.

Draco trailed his ice eyes across the corridors.

_Bollocks _

There were so many bloody students.

There was only one way the Pureblood thought of getting through this cluster of pupils: to keep his head down.

The infuriated blonde shrugged his sleeves to his hands, and bent his head, keeping his eyes glued to the rock floor as he began to stride informally.

He thought everything was going perfectly fine when he heard slight whispers.

"_Is that Draco Malfoy?" _one of them asked.

_"Who's Draco Malfoy?"_ the other one asked him.

"_You nitwit you don't know who he is_?" the first one inquired in disbelief.

Draco quickened his pace, feeling cautious about how fast their conversation was going.

_Almost there, almost there_.

The conversation of the two boys, who sounded like Hufflepuffs, was getting softer and softer, and the sound finally deceased when he was near the office. Feeling secure, he lifted up his head, and stroked back the tiny bits of hair that hung in front of his face.

Bloody hell, that was close.

He reluctantly turned the corner to McGonagall's classroom, which was exactly how he remembered it.

Bright, and vivid, but an irking dirt hole.

He stalked in the classroom inquisitively gaping right at the desk where McGonagall sat, scribbling down words in her parchment. Her tiny glasses perched at the end of her nose, as the quill frantically glided across the parchment. She peered up above her miniscule glasses and saw the blonde, slightly slouching as he faced his least favorite teacher.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," she exclaimed as she stood up from her chair. He noticed that she was slightly hunching from the ages of teaching here. "You are here now."

He just wanted to get sent to his room.

"Professor, could I go to my room now?" he drawled, trying his best to resist the urge of annoyance in his tone.

"Oh, yes…" she summoned her parchment with her hand and carefully tried to pinpoint his name with her wrinkly finger. "Malfoy, Malfoy, M, M, oh, here it is."

_"Hurry up,"_ he mentally shouted.

The old lady briskly walked back to her desk and looked up at him from her glasses. "I see…" he heard her murmur. "Well, since your registration for this year came late, you have your own room, and you will not be with other students," she explained in her shrill voice.

_Pfft. For good reason_.

"Unfortunately, I cannot walk you to your room since I have all these papers to fill out… something magic can't do."

_"Bloody hell. What a daft cow," _he groaned in his mind as he grit his teeth to keep cool.

"Fine," he silently spat out as he plopped down at one of the desks.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I'm afraid you have to wait until dinner-"

Just then, a girl ambled in hastily, interrupting her.

"_Professor, I delivered the papers to Professor Sinistra. She said she would be able to return them promptly_."

The old professor peered up and smiled generously.

"Thank you, Ms. Granger."

Malfoy didn't even realize that someone else was in the room, until McGonagall called out the word, "Granger".

* * *

**A/N:** Ohhhh... left you with a cliff hanger there...I hope. Hopefully this was long enough... but when there's more Dramione, the more writing. Lol... Ok so don't freak out, because I'm already working on the next chapter now, so please R+R! Please don't take any part of this story, or take the plot without giving me credit; please don't plagiarize! Okey dokey! Love you all!

xoxoxoxo-Ice Monsta


	4. Ripen

A/N: Hey Readers! So this chapter, in my opinion, is way better set up then the last two chapters I made. This one is longer, and Dramione action is happening! YAY! Well, not "love Dramione" but "developing Dramione" haha! I'm apologize AGAIN for the delay! I caught the flu or something. I honestly didn't want to skip school, but I had to. :P Anyhoo, sit down on a comfy chair, grab a hot cocoa and some cookies, and enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: My name is Ice Monsta, not J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Chapter 3: Ripen

Malfoy leisurely turned his head around.

His ice eyes met with her chocolate cocoa ones.

Bloody sodding hell, it was the Mudblood.

Her eyes broadened in shock, as she observed who it was. The Pureblood narrowed his eyes at the Mudblood, his lip curling in an irritated scowl.

The little, hopeless Mudblood.

The sniffy, show-off, know-it-all Mudblood.

Scarhead's best friend.

"You've _got _to be kidding me," he mentally alleged.

Her face was dotted with random specks of brown freckles, and her hazel eyes shown out as her eyes were widened. It kind of reminded him of chocolate orbs.

"Um… I really should be on my way…" the brunette witch, quickly avoided her eyes with his and turned her heel, her face still bomb shelled by Malfoy's presence.

It was _Malfoy_.

_Draco Malfoy_.

The one who threatened to kill Dumbledore.

The one who helped the Death Eaters sneak in.

The stupid, arrogant, ridiculous little…

_Ferret…_

She stalked out the room as quick as she could but bung at a calling order.

"Ms. Granger!" she summoned her with her shrill voice.

The curly haired witch halted at the entrance and spun around, tucking a curl away from her face. "Yes?" she replied, a clear tinge of nervousness was in her voice.

The old lady took off her spectacles and gaped down at the piece of parchment again. "Could you escort Mr. Malfoy to his room?" She threw his room key across the room, as it floated in the air, and Hermione unhurriedly grabbed it from the air with her small hands, as she peered at Malfoy impractically from the mad order the professor had just asked.

"He has his own bedroom, so it won't be any regular common room. His room is pretty old, so there is no portrait. He will have to use his key. I have papers to sign, and I can't leave until I finish them."

_Hell no._

Malfoy stood up and grabbed his brief case and interrupted harshly. "No. I think I'll be fine by myself, thank you very much," he drawled, his annoyance seeping through. "I will not be trailing along side a bloody Mudblood-"

"You best watch your mouth, Mr. Malfoy!" the professor snapped harshly at him. McGonagall gave him a strict look and shot her eyes at the brown haired witch.

"I insist Ms. Granger," she ordered softly, her wrinkles creasing as she spoke.

Hermione inhaled vastly and exhaled. She blearily massaged the bridge of her small nose. "Come on, Malfoy," She gestured him to come over with her. "Just-"

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, " he hissed at Granger, whose lips were slightly pursed, and her arms now crossing over her chest. "I'm not a little child-"

"Mr. Malfoy, now!" the professor ordered firmly, appearing like she was about to hurl something at his head.

He gaped at the old witch, with his light eyebrows furrowing in aggravation. The blonde wanted to chuck all these curses at her face, that made her nose grow, and teeth bulge. Well, of course he did that to Potter, but he deflected it, making it hit Granger, in forth year.

"Bugger to hell," the blonde cursed under his breath as he arose hastily from the seat, stalking out of the room.

Hermione felt the gust of wind pass her when the tall bleach blonde, ferret passed whisked past her. She happened to breath at that moment, and she inhaled a lungful of minty, masculine air. It made her brain fog up, and speckled black dots throughout her vision for a millisecond.

_What the…_

She shook her head, and blinked a couple times to flush it out. Hermione gaped at the teacher as she nodded to Hermione, as if she were saying, "You know what to do." She gave a swift bob back and abruptly sauntered out of the room.

"Malfoy!" she yelled out, as he was at least 10 feet ahead of her. "Malfoy!" she called again as she struggled to catch up with him, and his big, long strides. Seeing that he didn't stop, she threw the key at his back, and stopped walking, hoping he would get the palpable message.

She didn't care if she hit her worst enemy of all time. She wanted to call him so many other words.

_Cockroach…_

The key struck near his shoulder blades and his hissed in slight pain and turned around to see what hit him. He gaped at the ground and picked up the key hastily as his eyes trailed up to an incensed Granger.

There she was; pursing her lips slightly from the imprudent incident that just happened, her arms competently crossed over her chest, and her brown eyes studying his face.

"What the hell, Mudblood?!" he rebuked harshly as he stalked over to her, his ice eyes piercing into hers.

_Senseless…_

She threw her hands up in the air fractiously. "You didn't stop walking! I'd have to run to catch up with you like that!" she verbalized, stroking a hand through her cocoa curls.

"Well doesn't mean you have to throw a bloody, metal key at me!" he shouted back, hurling the key at her chest. She licked her lips to talk again, as she grasped the gold, metal key.

_Bloody hell, no_. He didn't change at all.

"Why are you so sodding arrogant to everyone?" she uttered out of her baby pink lips, as she shook her head at his face, which towered a few inches above her.

_Sodding , rash, heedless, injudicious, thoughtless…_

The bleach blonde ferret did the familiar smirk that she loathed, and licked his teeth. "Tsk, tsk, Granger, Granger, and I'm the arrogant one when you throw keys at someone's back," he hissed deceivingly, his ice eyes scanning across her face.

_Git!_

Here they were. Fighting like children as they did back then. Hermione really thought he would've changed, even the slightest. When she looked into his metal eyes, she saw taciturn, and a lifeless soul in them. But she also saw pain, and grieving. She wondered how fervently different they were personally. But she could care less about going into his private living.

But….

"Just…" she cut out her stare into his eyes and looked down the hall, "follow me," she started to walk down the empty corridor. Surprisingly, Draco reluctantly followed.

For minutes the silence went on and on. Draco kept his scowl hard, eyes glued in front if him, and barely traced his body against the wall as he walked, reminding himself to think about a Pureblood next to him, not a Mudblood. He hissed as sharp piece of rock from the wall scuffed his upper arm.

"So what are you doing here Malfoy?" Granger asked, breaking the extensive silence.

Malfoy broke off against the wall to avoid any other rocks on the disproportionate wall. He huffed. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm obviously following you to go to my bloody room," he elucidated harshly.

Hermione sighed and brought one had up to massage her temple. "Merlin, Malfoy. I mean why are you at _Hogwarts_?"

"You could of asked that before-"

Granger stopped walking and faced him, her cheeks slightly tinted cherry, as she got aggravated. "Just answer the question."

Malfoy stopped, with both his hands shoved in his pockets.

Granger eyed his appearance, but mentally scolded herself for doing so. She trailed her eyes on his upper body, noticing his arms were a little more rounded, and shaped than last year, his hair was still dead flat, and he was unmistakably _much_ taller. His regular black suit coated his body like last year. She pretended to shift her eyes at the wall, noting the unevenness.

He narrowed his eyes at her as he scowled at her, "I'm here to learn," he murmured ruthlessly, being as direct as he could. He stalked off, leaving her behind.

The witch scoffed as she placed a hand on her hip. "_Learn_?" she repeated after him, as she traced her eyes to the back of his bleach head. She started pacing after Malfoy again. "You threatened to kill Dumbledore, got in trouble _countless_ of times, and they allowed you here?" She almost started running to his sturdy, long strides.

"Yes, Mudblood." They both halted at the entrance of a dark hall. Only a few torches illuminated the isolated corridor, and cobwebs and dust lined the hall.

All those myriad years, he still would call her a Mudblood. Since the second year when he first called her that, she remembered crying her brown eyes out, for as long as she could recall. But now, virtually a woman, she barely took effect, and was gratified for what she was.

Stupid, blonde, bouncing, _ferret._

"Give me the key," the blonde hissed fiercely as he saw the door at the end of the melancholy corridor. Hermione thought it was weird how it was so close to the Slytherin common room, yet the professor didn't let him in the common room.

"Hey, we're still talking about this," she held the key behind her back.

"No, we're not!" he susurrated harshly, trying to get the key. He narrowed his eyes on her, and glared at the key behind her back. "Give me the f-"

"How were you allowed back here? Did Voldemort approve?" she inquired fiercely as she bounded back, avoiding him. "You left here, feeling proud of helping your little friends-"

She felt his robust hands grasp her wrist, and she felt as if he was going to break it. His touch sent chills up her spine, and it was icy, yet tepid at the same time. She felt him shove the wrist to the wall, making her slightly gasp in pain.

"Never… talk about that _again,_" he growled adjacent to her ear.

Hermione's chest seemed to shudder from the draft of his chilling breath next to her ear, and she flinched when he firmly clutched her wrist again to snatch the key from her hand. He left her upended there, thinking, "_What happened to me_?"

She shook off the indefinite feeling Malfoy had given her and inhaled a breath before pacing to his door. He saw him halfway through the door.

"Malfoy!" she roared, but he left the furious cocoa haired witch standing there with balled fists, and bottom lip pursing out.

What a dim-witted cretin.

* * *

The sky awakened almost everyone at Hogwarts with the slight blows of the screaming winds, and the harsh pattering of the cold rain. The trees seemed to sag, like timeworn flowers. The precipitation from above seemed like tears, cried by Hogwarts's lost treasured ones.

Hermione lay awake again. She swallowed, and crooked her head on her side to sink her head more in the burgundy pillows as she gaped out at the window, her chocolate- coffee curls spilling over the opaque pillow.

The weather was absolutely atrocious.

The pale grey sky colored the atmosphere with its gloom, once again, and rain fought the earth. It felt similar to Halloween night in 1st year, when she remembered deliberately locking herself in the bathroom, and crying from miniature Ron's heart breaking words.

_"It's Levi-ohh- sah. Not Levio-sahh."_

_"No wonder she hasn't got any friends_."

Hermione wiped at her tired eyes, as she grinned from her "not-friend-then-now-friend" memory.

God, she missed them already.

She wanted to hug them, and she wanted to be with them.

But she promised to look after Hogwarts for them.

As many people, as it seemed this year, only about half of them stayed for another year.

All frightened of the war, they abandoned Hogwarts, leaving only the handful of students who stayed.

Hermione sighed as she sat up, swung her feet over to the side of her bed, and decided it was ready to start school again.

As she got outfitted, she reminded herself to write a letter to Ron and Harry occasionally, to inform them that Hogwarts is doing prodigious. She wanted to tell them that it was content and polished there, always occupied with students that flashed jubilant grins every day.

But that was a sodding long way away until that would happen.

The light brown haired 17 year old glanced at the mirror with a nod of satisfaction, and briskly made her way to the Great Hall.

When she arrived there, she mournfully glanced around at the lack of students there usually was. Adding to that, Ron, and Harry were gone. But, she had to suck in her nerves to survive just one more year here. Even with the war, she had to stay resilient and protect her school.

She promised.

She found a seat at her systematic Gryffindor table, grabbed a slice of fruit bread and nibbled it deliberately, as she opened one of her books that Dumbledore had left for her. The obscurity from outside seemed to try to burst into Hogwarts, just like Dementors preparing to engulf the soul out of the lost students this year.

Hermione happened to look up and caught glimpse of Malfoy, nipping on a green apple. Assembled across the Great Hall from her, he looked different. He wasn't in his pitch-black suit, but in a school uniform with his regular green tie. She saw the students around him scoot outwards, away from him as they gawked at him, whispering remarks of who they thought he was. Malfoy scowled at them, his lips curving into a livid curve, as he remained where he sat.

_McGonagall must have told them all_.

The hazel-eyed witch had no surprise in her eyes, and continued to read her book.

She flipped to a page about the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, and traced her finger along the lines as she silently read under her breath.

_"The sword only comes to a worthy Gryffindor in need. In times of turbulence, and a Gryffindor in great grieving, will the sword present itself to the person"…_

Hermione's cream hazel-brown eyes studied the selection for any key words that could be useful.

_"…Godric…"_

_"…Founded in…"_

The sword was missing. She was extremely enquiring why Dumbledore left it to Ron and Harry, when it was lost. She nibbled a little more of her bread lazily as she scanned the passage again.

_"…magnificent powers…"_

_"…dust and dirt have no effect on the blade.."_

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the page in curiosity and pointed at the sentence with her well-manicured fingers.

_"…it only takes in that, which makes it stronger."_

Hermione gazed at the page in oddity, placed down her slice of bread, and mouthed the words again.

"Dust and dirt have no effect on the blade; it only takes in that, which makes it stronger," she repeated softly, her eyebrows furrowing in unfathomable thought.

After nibbling her lip for quite a while, and thinking how Harry destroyed Tom Riddle's diary, her eyes expressed in astonishment.

She shut the book, and took out a piece of parchment and her fluffy quill. She flattened it out hastily and started scribbling away.

_ Dear Harry and Ron,_

_I have just found out why Dumbledore left the Sword of Gryffindor to you two. The sword can destroy Horcruxes! I just read that dust and dirt have no effect on the blade, and it takes in that, and makes it stronger. So, when Harry destroyed Tom Riddle's diary in the Chamber of Secrets, he used the basilisk's fang. When he stabbed the basilisk with the sword, the sword permeated the venom, and it took in that venom and made it stronger! That is why it can destroy Horcruxes!_

_ Anyway, I hope you are doing well, and you take this advice to defeat You-know-who. I really miss you two, and please write back._

_ Hermione G._

_P.S: Hope you don't mind that I used Pigwidgeon._

Hermione enveloped the parchment and muttered a private spell to avoid anyone else from reading it.

"Pigwidgeon," she cooed as the miniature owl soared in and perched on her shoulder. "Here, take this to Harry and Ron," she put the envelope near his trifling beak and he snatched it away.

"Wait," she fussed at the bird. She drew out her wand and muttered a quick spell at the bird. "There. Now you will be safe from the rain."

The little owl cooed and started flapping his diminutive wings as he exited the castle window.

"Ms. Granger," a familiar voice uttered behind her.

Hermione crooked her head to the side and peered up. "Professor…" she started.

"Come with me," the old witch instructed, as she turned her heel towards the doors.

The hazel eyed witch gathered her belongings hastily and trailed after the professor.

Hermione reached the classroom and placed her belongings on one of the desks. "Is everything alright, Professor McGonagall?" she pulled her school uniform top over her hips a little.

The professor gestured her wrinkly hand to the seats in front of her desk. "Have a seat, Ms. Granger."

Hermione felt a little cautious about what was going on, but she took a seat anyway, and flattened her skirt.

She heard heavy footsteps behind her, and swapped around and saw a tall, very fit, and good-looking student. His hair was golden, almost like hers, and brown streaks fit his mused hair. He kind of reminded her of Cormac McLaggen from last year. Except, he was a Ravenclaw.

"Oh, Ms. Granger, this is Michael Hawthorne. Mr. Hawthorne, Hermione Granger," McGonagall clarified.

Hermione stood up and grasped his hand firmly. "Nice to meet you," she grinned at him.

He smiled back, showing flashing teeth. "Pleasure is all mine, Hermione."

Hermione hesitated a smile, let go of his immense hand, and sat back down on her seat. She glanced at Michael then back at the timeworn professor. "So, why, exactly, are we meeting?"

"You two will be our new Heads this year," she took off her spectacles, placed them gently on her desk, and peered at the two of them. "In times like these, I needed to pick the two finest students of this year that I fully trust. That would be you two."

Hermione's chest fluttered with awe.

Harry was right.

She needed to look after Hogwarts for them, but she never estimated to get Head position.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione expressed her gratitude to the professor.

"Thank you," Michael also said, flashing his teeth again.

The professor smiled at both of the beaming students, and inhaled sharply. "Now, as Heads, you both will need to meet up occasionally and plan new ideas to make this school better in sorts of ways. You also have the privilege to deduct points from any house, if they misbehave in any way."

"Oh, and also, I'm not really supposed to be in charge of this since I am not Headmaster, but best keep this a quiet matter. Severus comes to this school every few days, but then leaves."

The two students nodded in agreement as they understood.

The tired professor glanced at her old clock and let out a slight gasp of surprise. "Well, I would recommend you two to gather your belongings and head to your new dorms. You best hurry; classes start soon for the little ones."

_Little ones?_

Hermione's grin disappeared. "What do you mean, "little ones"?"

Professor McGonagall hesitated as she scooted up on her chair and crossed her hands on the table studying both of the Heads carefully. "7th years are going to be doing something… a little different than what the rest of the years are."

She lowered her voice. "With the war approaching, we are trying to organize a program where 2 students are paired up with each other to gain strategies, and increase their knowledge to help, and fight against, You-know-who's army. The pairs are picked randomly, because training with someone that you may not know, can increase trust within the pairs; therefore leading to trust throughout the whole 7th years."

Hermione swallowed and nodded, feeling somewhat nauseas.

"Those successful strategies will be taught to the 6th years, but no younger."

Michael glanced at the wavy haired witch, and then back at McGonagall. "I understand," he stood up and eyed Hermione. "We best be on our way. Thank you Professor."

"Oh, yes. Sorry to keep you waiting," the professor stumbled as she shooed them away with her hands. "Just thought I needed to give a little heads-up."

Hermione mounted up from her chair and straightened her skirt, nodding at the professor before she left.

God, thinking of the war _more_ now made her heart ache even more than before.

* * *

"So you're _the_ Hermione Granger," Michael asked her, heaving his miscellaneous items in his arms. "Always fighting for her two best friends. I've heard a lot about you."

Hermione shrugged, and dragged her trunk along. "Well… " she hesitated.

Michael took a glance at her. "Gryffindor, right?"

Hermione nodded tediously.

"I'm a Ravenclaw."

Hermione looked at him with her dark, hazel eyes, and nodded towards his tie. "So I've noticed."

Michael eyed her with his dark brown eyes and laughed a little at her arbitrary humor. "So where are your friends now?" he asked heaving his stuff again.

Hermione's heart almost stopped.

"Uhh," She stammered, her lips rubbing together. "They decided to take a year off," she saved herself. "You know with all the rubbish that's going about."

"Ah." He replied. "Strong little men, now aren't they," he chuckled as he ordered the king portrait to open, "_Licorice wand_."

The portrait unbolted and Hermione slightly smiled, thankful that the secret didn't tumble through.

She settled herself inside, and observed the room, feeling quite pleased in the setting. The walls were colored with iridescent gold and matte red, and the drapes over the windows were tinted with golden, and everything in the room seemed so fantasizing. It reminded her of the Gryffindor common room; everything was their house color.

Michael looked out the window and sighed. "You know there's Carrows out there right now."

Hermione's eyebrows crossed together as she approached him near the window. "What are Carrows?"

He pointed his bulky finger toward the vision outside.

Hermione's eyes trailed to the green ground, drowned with rain. Her eyes widened in horror.

Two adults, both coated in black, were taunting a little 1st year and menacing him. The boy looked very scared, and was constantly standing up, but was then pushed down. It really struck her when they used the Cruciatus Curse.

Hermione's eyes clamped closed in disgust, and turned away. "Why-"

"They want to, and have the right to. Snape is Headmaster; no one can stop them unless he does." Michael calmly said to the witch.

Hermione's teeth gritted together as she heard the boy's desperate screams for help, and pain.

After minutes, it seemed, the screaming came to a halt, and all was quiet. Hermione's eyes opened, and her whole face became relaxed. She swapped to the window, planting both of her palms against the glass, looking for the boy.

He was gone.

She felt Michael's breath against her back. "They took him in the castle. C'mon Hermione. We have to leave."

Hermione nodded, and swallowed the lump of concern in her throat. She turned and faced him.

She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and looked up at Micheal. "So… Which room do you want?" she eyed the two bedrooms that were across the room from each other.

Michael scratched his head and ran his ran messily over his golden mane and exhaled, forming an O with his lips. "I guess I'll go with this one," he pointed to the one on the left, "I mean if you don't mind," he looked at her, his dark eyes settling on her hazel ones.

Hermione avoided his eyes, running her fingers through her sunlit brown locks. She dampened her lips and nodded. "No, no, it's fine. You can take that one," she looked at his masculine face and grinned.

He smiled back and trudged off to his room, slightly grinning the whole way.

Hermione watched the door close, and sighed.

She needed to write to Harry and Ron again.

They were always on her awareness, and she couldn't bear to think what could happen to them.

She sighed hesitantly and lazily dragged her black trunk into her bedroom. She pushed the brown, timber door open, and glanced around; it wasn't that much unlike from her previous room, except that it was half the size greater. She closed the door and flicked her wand at her trunk, as it unloaded everything and organized them deftly.

She collapsed into the bed, as the soft, plush mattress sunk her in, making her spine release its tension she had been having for hours. She rubbed her eyes slightly and glanced to the right, seeing a reflection of herself in the mirror.

Dark, rich, golden eyes were telling her to get her lazy bum off the sheets, and be prepared for class.

She sighed in frustration.

This was going to be one of the years she would not want to remember.

* * *

"Now," the aged professor called out. "I know that you students don't know about the change of plans for the seventh years." McGonagall peered at all the students sitting at their desk, waiting for the revelation.

She hesitated, slightly containing her focus on her brown wand. She peered up at the eager students. "The war," she started.

Hermione felt her stomach twist marginally to the sound of the word, as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

The professor walked through the aisles of the desks. "Some other Professors and I have thought that we should involve our 7th years in a program to help increase skill, and knowledge for the war. We are not putting pressure on the students to fight for us, but we want the students to fight for their school."

Malfoy's mouth twitched with rarity.

He wasn't going to fight for the school. This made no sense if he was helping both the Dark Lord, and the school at the same time. He hated this school, and everyone in it. He raised his hand coarsely.

McGonagall sighed. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

He scowled at the professor as he dropped his arm. "Is it absolutely obligatory to join this?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," she replied sternly. "_No_ exceptions."

A heat of ferociousness swept over Draco as he clenched his fist together, a trifling_crack _from his knuckles distracted Hermione, but she just shook the brutalizing sound off.

"Yeah, because I bet Draco's daddy won't let him save his school, and make him, instead, become a faithful servant to you-know-who," snickered a student.

Draco's mouth turned into a scowl. "I bet your daddy is too weak to even tell you that you don't have a brain. He also forgot to use a spell on your mouth to shut you up."

The whole class developed in slight giggles and larks, as the student's face became noticeably pink. Even Malfoy felt the warmness of his embarrassment and started smirking. Hermione just glanced at Malfoy, as he returned the favor. She just shook her head and continued to look forward.

The professor raised her voice and the noise level calmed down.

"If I hear such nonsense like this again, you two will serve detention." She pointed at the two boys.

As the teacher went on, and on about the rules and regulations, Draco picked at his fingers, only catching key words in his mind.

"…_visiting each other for daily work_…"

"…_Forbidden Forest may be entered, but as a class_…"

"…_spells, potions, defense, anything_…"

"…_Granger, and Draco Malfoy_…"

_What_?

Malfoy shot his head up, seeing the old professor reading off of her list. She looked up at him gesturing him and Granger. "Go, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger. You two are together!"

Malfoy's face was lifeless, and pale, his angry eyes trailed over to the Mudblood. Her eyes were dull, and her mouth slightly parted from the shock.

"Come again?" he harshly hissed.

McGonagall sighed at his lack of paying attention, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, you two were randomly picked to be 7th year project partners for the rest of the school year."

_No_.

* * *

A/N: Ohhhh! Another cliffhanger! I'm very sorry this one took so long to write. I think you'll see why. I was also sick, so I'm sorry for that too! : ( Next chapter is already in progress! Okay, well, I hope you all enjoyed! : ) : ) Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize.

_~ Review Replies_:

**PhoenixEye10000**: Thank you so much! I'm glad you like it!

Okey, thank you everyone who's reading, and please R&R! I will reply and give you a cookie! ^.^

-Ice Mon


	5. Hate

A/N: Ok just to be clear, the 7th year project thing happens occasionally. So, the 7th year students have regular classes during the morning that teach them some more advanced wizarding stuff, and then they meet up and do the project. Hopefully that's clear enough now. :)

Sooo… I just recently fell in love with the singer/ songwriter Jason Walker. I don't know why I couldn't find his music earlier. It's so amazing! I will start to make a series of One- shot Dramione stories with the stories the name of his awesome songs. I do listen to Skrillex sometimes too lol. I know it's weird, but I only like a handful of songs from him. (Gets me pumped up for sports)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter series. I just love writing about it. (Though I get made fun of it)

* * *

Chapter 4: Hate

_"Mr. Malfoy."_

Malfoy shook his head as the blurry sound ricocheted around in his head, and the empty classroom.

No. _Never _in Merlin's name was he going to work with the Mudblood. That would be disgraceful. Whose stupid idea was it to put them together? He-

_Wait._

This was a secret society. Did Snape know about this? Did anybody _other t_han the teachers know about this? No. Snape wouldn't allow this. God, it was hard to figure out what was right and what wasn't. Either he tells Snape, _or_ he becomes the loyal student he never was. Draco's mind felt shut off. His heart clenched up, and his gut swelled with tension of all that was going on.

_No. I have to. The Dark Lord will kill me…_

"Mr. Malfoy!" the annoying voice alerted him again, breaking him out of his stance.

His metal eyes trailed up to McGonagall. "I will not work with that Mudblood," he hissed, making the professor's mouth twitch impatiently.

"You _will_ work with _Ms. Granger_, and mine as well watch your language while you are at it!" she snapped harshly. She peered at Malfoy, who's back was head hung from his curved position, and then Granger who's face seemed like nothing happened. "You two best get a move on to your classes. You two will meet up in the afternoon." The professor straightened her pile of parchments, as 1st years piled in the room.

Hermione nodded quickly and tediously stalked out of the room.

Her head raced with thoughts. _A whole year with Malfoy? What would she tell Harry and Ron? They would be so upset!_

What were the chances of her ever going to fight together for the war when they were complete enemies? He was a pompous git, only caring for himself, and she was everything but what he was.

Hermione's felt a cold hand grab her arm and yank her back. A small yelp escaped her lips as the sudden shock caused her to almost slip, but the icy grasp tightened. Hermione looked up, seeing Malfoy. His mouth was curved in that aggravated, toxic frown, and his mercury eyes narrowed at her.

"Malfoy, what in Merlin's name are you-"

"_Shut up_. I have no intention of working with you. Working with a Mudblood would be the last thing I would do. So don't think we're going to be little friends after this." He hissed furiously.

"I wasn't intending of being your friend. I would rather hex you." She sniffed, trying to pull her arm away, but he intensified his grip.

Malfoy gritted his teeth. "Then why did you look so _bloody_ happy when she said that we were partners?"

"I wasn't happy! I just wasn't acting all babyish like you were in class!"

"I wasn't acting foolish, I simply stated that I didn't want to be your partner! Come on, Mudblood, with that brain of yours, wouldn't you be able to infer that?" he growled.

She scoffed. "With a brain like mine, I could infer that you couldn't tell yourself that you were acting like child. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to head over to class, and not be late because of a child." Hermione yanked her arm away.

"Why you little-"

"Come to the Head's room after dinner," she added as she nodded swiftly and hurriedly walked off.

Malfoy growled at the annoyance, and furiousness of his so-called partner and turned his heel, stalking away through the empty corridor to his class. His eyes watched the floor in front of him like a hawk.

_Stupid Mudblood…Stupid Mudblood… Stupid Mudblood_

* * *

The next classes past by like a blur. It was as if the day was cast by a spell that was naked to the human eye. The rain hadn't taken a break, and the hidden sun raced across the sky for its daily goals to drown behind the mountains.

All these days started and ended the same way, and Hermione was tired of it. She wanted some bit of fun spiced into her days, but with the war, and Snape going about, it was hardly possible.

Hermione scribbled her last sentence down on her arid parchment, and let out a breath of exhaustion. It was 3:00 p.m., and classes had already come to a stop for the 7th years, and it was now time to work with… Malfoy. She sighed. It would just be best to get it over with.

Hermione lifted her head, and tucked an annoying curl behind her ear as she peered out the tinted window. Cold raindrops pattered on the outside, making Hermione sense sheltered inside. She saw slight movement from outside and stretched her neck, and observed for a better look.

_Bugger…_

Carrows doing their same tricks again.

She tried to ignore the piercing screams that blew through the window from the cold, wet ground from below. Hermione looked down, licking her lips. She hated them so much. She wanted them to go away.

_Sodding Snape_.

She sighed hesitantly and grabbed her books to finish up her day. She decided going to the library to get all her information for studying for the war.

* * *

"Glad you could make it," he hissed like an enigmatic foreigner.

He paced back and forth, turning the corner with his black cape trailing behind him like a lost shadow. "So the boy. He will be spying for you?" he questioned emphasizing every word.

"He is the best shot we have. Since he is a student, he can tell us what the ill-advised professors are teaching the students," he jeered again, peering at Nagini who was joyfully feasting on another dead Death Eater sprawled across the floor.

Snape stopped pacing. "Why not simply use me, my lord? I surely could see what everyone-"

"Yes, but Draco is a student. The professors trust him as student, for now," he watched Snape turn his mouth into a nasty frown. "Teachers cannot trust you Severus. They know who you are."

"We cannot trust Draco! Did you see the way he failed last year?" the black-haired man elucidated, raising his voice.

Voldemort stood up slowly. "I do trust Draco will not fail me at the end. If he does, he knows the consequences," he spat at Severus.

Snape nodded at the Dark Lord, trailing his eyes down to the tattooed blotch on his left arm, which was moving like a snake against his skin.

"You, Severus, are responsible to watch over the boy, and to make sure he is not doing anything erroneous. If so, kill the people supporting him. He must not fail this time," the dark man hissed, as he sat down on his opaque throne.

The past year when Draco had successfully failed to accomplish the Dark Lord's orders, gave Voldemort the urge to snap his neck, and scrape off Draco's dark mark. Voldemort knew that he was always a little weakling, just like his blonde father. Many years ago when Draco was born, Voldemort felt proud to have another Malfoy member to join his group, and do anything he was ordered to do.

Now, many years later, he was just as weak and foolish as the first Malfoy.

"My Lord…"

"Make sure he doesn't fail me. I will apply the same regards as last year. If he fails me, you will be the one to finish the job," he said, his voice resembling the isolated, snakelike tone.

The black haired man nodded stiffly, his black eyes showing no soul, and with that, he whipped his dark cape around him, and disappeared with the blinding crack that echoed around the room.

* * *

"Draco…"

"What?" he asked irritably.

"Um… you- you haven't eaten any food."

He peered down at his clean and empty dish. Indeed, nothing appealed to his stomach and he didn't care if he would stave tonight or not.

"You look sick. You look flushed."

Draco faced his pig-nosed friend. "I'm not sick, Pansy. I'm just not hungry."

"W-well…" she stuttered breaking her gaze and reaching toward the miniature pies neatly stacked up on the serving dish. "Here…" she placed the pie on his dish. "Your mum will be disappointed if you don't-"

"_Pansy_," he slammed his palms on the table in frustration, making the pie shake. "Your _not _my mother, so stop acting like you are!"

She whimpered, pulling her hand away and grasping it with the other. "I- I'm sorry, Draco. I- I just thought…" she trailed off, turning back to her plate.

"Draco," said a male voice to his left. He inferred that it was Goyle.

"What?" he growled as he kept looking forward, resting his crossed arms on the table.

"Look," he pointed his stubby finger at Professor McGonagall, who was hastily walking through the aisles, talking with another teacher. She seemed to be heading toward the Great Hall doors. "You could see what they're doing," he whispered. (He knew about Draco's orders since he was a Death Eater.)

He was right. This could be the first time he would actually catch a conversation with a pair of teachers. "McGonagall and Sinistra… I should-"

_No. Don't do it._

"What the h-" he started in his mind.

_"Do it," giggled the little devil in his mind. "The Dark Lord will be proud," it sneered._

_"No!" the other one squealed. "You mustn't! Save your school! You grew up here for Merlin's sake!"_

_"Shut up!" the devil sneered. "Go! Now! They are leaving!"_

_"No! No! Don't! You-"_

But Draco had already rashly got up from his seat and casually, but speedily strode after the two teachers.

Down the hall, he tried to walk as quickly as possible without being loud. His black shoes were almost impossible to mute, but if the slightest sound protruded from his shoes, he decided to wither hide behind the wall, or act casual.

Draco's eyes trailed up to the backs of McGonagall and Sinistra, but he couldn't catch what they were saying. They were more like hushed whispers. He hid behind the first hinge of the wall, and peered over the edge.

"Minerva, I really do not understand-"

McGonagall stopped her and faced her and looked around. Draco hid his bleach blond hair and glued his back to the wall. He could only catch a few of her audible words.

"…_Malfoy boy_…"

They were talking about him.

It was as simple as that.

"Come, come," said McGonagall as she appeared to be leading the other flabbergasted professor to an empty room. Draco peered over the edge, and saw the last of McGonagall's robes fly into the room at the end of the hall. He gaped side-to-side, concerning his whereabouts and stalked quietly toward her office. He leaned his ear to the cold door, and the bit of light peeking from the crack of the door shined on Draco's pale face.

"Minerva, I really don't think that Draco Malfoy would do such a horrible deed again. I mean, give the boy a chance- "

"No," he heard McGonagall say. He heard shuffling and inferred that she was pacing. "I cannot trust him still. He works for You-Know-Who, and – and- he's a disrespectful student! He called Ms. Granger a Mudblood 2 times today! I- I just can't-" she stopped pacing.

The other professor fussed. "Oh, come now, Minerva. He can't be that bad. Give him a chance to finish his last year here. Maybe his family has got to do something with him. I've met the father…" she breathed in heavily.

Draco cringed at the talk of his father, and he wanted to shut her mouth because she knew nothing about him.

He turned his head a little to the side and saw a bit of the two professors. McGonagall was seated on the chair, and the other female teacher was standing in front of her, mournfully gaping down at her.

"I have a feeling there is something he is not telling us. He probably still is the servant of You-Know-Who, but his mother told me that the Malfoy's had seceded from the works of him. I wonder how they are still alive. You-Know-Who will not give mercy…" said McGonagall

"Well, perhaps they are right," the other professor alleged.

There was a moment of complete silence.

"Just- let him finish this year, and you won't have to worry."

McGonagall raised her weary head at the sympathetic professor. "Sinistra," she said, her voice slightly croaking. "_He'_s the reason Albus is dead."

Draco had had enough. He clenched his teeth together and pushed off of the door, making it creak open. Students had already piled in the halls, heading back to their common room. The teachers perked up in alert, and faced the door. They had not seen Draco, but were marginally cautious if someone was overhearing them.

Draco had recently sent an owl to his mother, explaining that his time here was drab, and that he had been assigned to help out the war. He explained that that was the only assignment for the 7th years. He knew it was bad for his deeds to the Dark Lord, and he didn't know whether to tell his mother that Snape most likely did not know. He just thought to keep it to a rest.

His mother had wrote back, comforting him that everything would be okay, and she said to not recline, or else he would get a horrible grade. No matter how many times Draco refused to do it, his mum pleaded hard enough for him to finally agree on it. But just for his mother.

The mysterious sky outside was dark, and remote, but for Draco, it was like home to him. Only a few students occasionally wandered about the halls, but it was not that time where the regarding teachers had to shoo them off to their dormitories.

The blonde hair boy stopped at the end of the hall, and peered up at the sky outside. The rain pattered on the ground, and some of the extra trickles of water had a rhythmic drumbeat as they plummeted down from the side of the roof. A drop fell on Draco's blonde hair, and it permeated into his bleach hair, which was no longer resistant like before.

Draco watched as the precipitation constantly fell from the opaque sky. He wondered what it would be like to be a raindrop; going through so many life-threatening stages – but yet – still is alive. He suddenly felt a sharp sizzling in his left forearm, and he hissed in pain. With shaking hands, he gradually shoved his sleeve up to his biceps; it was his dark mark. It moved on his pale skin like a slithering snake, and the skull-like creature printed on it looked as if it was cackling at him.

The discreet position was suddenly broken by a screeching shriek in Draco's ears. He groaned out vaguely, and steadied himself on the pole next to him. His fingers dug into the rock pole, but it released some of the tension caused by the ear-piercing blast.

_"Tell me, Draco…"_ hissed Voldemort's voice.

"Tell me… tell me… tell me…" it whispered over and over in his head.

Tell him what?! About Hogwarts? This was too soon.

Draco let out another uncomfortable hiss again, and clenched his eyes shut, and his grasp tightened on the pole. Is stomach clenched up, and his head felt like two resilient machines were pressurizing it.

"Tell me!" it screamed.

Draco clamped his palms over his ears, trying to muff out the sound. "I… I don't know!" he shouted. He could hear his voice, but he felt nothing come out of his mouth. It felt as if cotton was shoved in his mouth.

The screeching seemed to decease slightly, and all felt calm again, but Draco still felt the Dark Lord's anger like fire.

"You _will_ tell me tomorrow, Draco, or else nothing will go well," spat the voice, sounding disappointed.

And as if the world had come to an end, everything became hushed, and all Draco could hear, was his own heartbeat, and the prattling of the callous rain. His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he felt something make its way up his throat. Draco let out a gasp, collapsed on his knees and hands, and vomited on the wet grass as he let out a groan of nausea. He was a trainee, and his teenage senses hadn't had the strength to handle this dark magic.

His chest heaved with sputters as he groaned in disgust of his mess. The rain had drenched him, and his whole body- head to toe- was doused with the icy water. He steadily got up, his knees shaking from recovery, and he continued to heave in gasps of air. The rain had soaked his blonde hair, and it hung in front of his eyes and he shoved it out of the way. He took out his wand with shaking hands and flicked his wand at the mess. The mess instantly vanished. He backed up inside, slightly shivering from the cold.

He pointed his wand at his body, and it sucked out all the moistness as it entered the black wand. He flicked a spell at his mouth, and he felt a tinge of bitterness from it; it instantly cleaned his mouth from his vomit and returned it to its minty crisp smell.

_Sodding hell…_

He had to inform his master tomorrow? What the hell could he find by tomorrow? He could tell him about the 7th year program.

No…

Yes…

No!

Merlin, this ambiguity of what was right and what was wrong was slaying him. More like eating him from inside to the out. Too many people were messing with his brain and he couldn't ponder straight. He strode along the empty hallway, which was only lighted by a few dim lights. His eyes trailed up to the enormous clock pasted on the wall, almost 10 feet across.

_Bugger…_

He forgot to meet up with the Mudblood.

* * *

Hermione glanced at the clock for the hundredth time it seemed. It had been 1 hour since the time she was supposed to meet up with Malfoy. She wasn't surprised at his absence for something including her, however, she _also _wasn't surprised Malfoy was missing something this_ important_. All she could think about him was that he was still a Death Eater. He was still a faithful servant of the Dark Lord. _And_ he was _not_ going to give in for something that had to do with saving the school.

She sighed and plopped down on her couch and turned her head to the immense stack of books piled up happily on the desk. The gold light in the room seemed to jump up her mood a little bit, but half of her thoughts were containing Harry and Ron. Who knew if they were alive this moment or not? Who knew if they were lost, and cold? Who knew if they even _got_ her message? There was no reason they could-

"Granger!"

Hermione bolted straight up on the couch from the brash surprise. She heard the rude rapping on the portrait, and swung her legs over as she stood up. She ambled over to the door and went on her tiptoes to look through the magic eyeball on the outside of the portrait.

It was Malfoy.

She curiously turned the bronze knob and slowly opened the door. At first she did think she would see Malfoy, but it looked like a dissimilar person at first. Instead of his regular hair, it was more natural, and it didn't look tacky at all. It was like a lenient pillow, but with fiery insides. His regular scowl carved his face, and his shoulders had a casual, but conventional posture to them. "Malfoy," she heard herself say. She cleared her throat. "You're late," she said more harshly.

"Just forget it, Mudblood," he stalked past her through the door. "It's not like you haven't seen me late before."

Hermione blinked after him with the rudeness of his entrance, but it was typical Malfoy, and she insouciantly closed the door gently and walked over to the table. She looked up at Malfoy who had his hands shoved in his pockets, and his body leaned against the hinge of the window.

The silence sort of put an obdurate feeling in between the two of the students. The faint tapping of the rain was still audible through the many layers of the school, but it almost put Hermione into a relaxing state from the light _pitter-patter_ of it.

"So," she said, wiping her hands on her skirt. "Let's get started then." She strode to the table with the vast pile of books and shelves full of books right on the side of it.

Malfoy gaped after her, narrowing his eyes, and then observed the room. He scoffed. "You're Head Girl? Good luck with making people listen to you, or even _like_ you with your personality."

Hermione looked at him and grinned sheepishly. "Well at least I have friends. I least I have friends that are decent unlike your food-craving, dim-witted companions."

Malfoy strode closer to her slowly with a glower on his pale face. "Crabbe and Goyle aren't my friends, nor my companions anymore. They are idiots. Way out of my league of "friends"," he spat.

Hermione just sighed and glanced at the clock. It was 8:00. She looked back at Malfoy. She wanted her nighttime curfew to be 9:30. "Malfoy. Let's just get this done for tonight, okay?" she asked harshly.

Malfoy looked at the dirty Muggle in front of him. "Fine," he spat. "But I'm not going to be your little puppet, and do whatever you say. I can take care of myself. In fact, I'd rather not do this project, but that old cow is making me-"

"Don't you _ever_, talk about Professor McGonagall that way! She is brilliant. You should be thankful for such a insolent teacher." Hermione barked at him.

"I said I'm not going to be your _bloody_ puppet!" Malfoy shouted at her.

"I'm not trying to! I'm just saying for you to shut up about talking to people like that! Have some common sense!" she yelled.

"Listen here, you filthy little-"

Just then, a click from the portrait door broke the argument between the Gryffindor and the Slytherin. Draco broke his eyes from Hermione, and looked at the honey haired Ravenclaw. "Who the hell is this?" he sneered.

Hermione turned, noticing Michael. Her features softened. "Oh…" she stuttered. "Michael, hi. This is Malfoy…" she kept her eyes on him as he approached Malfoy.

Michael was the same height as Malfoy, but his features represented an extreme difference. Malfoy look callous, dark, and taciturn, but Michael was warm, exultant, and ecstatic. Michael grinned and shot his hand out. "I'm Michael Hawthorne. Ravenclaw."

Malfoy just inadequately glanced down at his hand and looked back up, and scowl on his face. "Are you Head Boy?"

Michael's smile deceased and his hand dropped to his side. "Yeah. And you are?"

"As the Mudblood said. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. I'm her partner for this senseless task that I have no interest whatsoever on."

"What did you call her?"

Hermione looked down and clenched her eyes shut.

Merlin, this is not what she wanted.

Malfoy swapped his eyes to the Hermione and smirked as he looked back at Michael. "I said, I called her a Mudblood."

Michael's features turned from soft and joyous, to angry and cold.

"You know those names you call Muggleborn witches and wizards?" he glanced at her again. This time she was balling both of her fists, and giving him a betrayed look. "I hardly think that she's a witch. I hardly even think she's a girl."

Hermione saw movement from Michael, and saw that he was gradually taking out his wand. Her eyes widened and she started rambling toward the both of them.

"How da-"started Michael, his contented face exposed into a fuming face.

"Michael!" Hermione said lively as she cut the space in between the two of the boys. "We really have to start working on our project, so, I think it's best if you leave us alone for now." She smiled.

Michael stopped by the slight pleading from Hermione, and shoved his wand into his pocket giving a dirty look at Malfoy. He glanced at Hermione. "Okay. I'll leave you guys to it then." He gave a deathly look at Malfoy, and he walked to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Hermione sighed silently in relief and turned around and faced Malfoy. "How dare you try to anger him like that? You two getting into a fight is the last thing I would want you guys to do!" she scolded.

Malfoy simply just scowled at her. "You didn't have to stop him from attacking me! I would be more than happy to fight him! I probably just angered you with my accurate Mudblood explanation."

Hermione's insides burned with hatred, and she thought of all of the curses she would like to permeate him with. She could, but knowing that she was Head Girl and his partner, she would get in trouble. Besides, the whole project was to get along with everyone, so that is what she tried to do.

"Aw, Miss Mudblood doesn't deny it, huh? Well, I'm surprised. Usually you would have your two little friends help you…"

Harry and Ron.

_God. Oh, please don't let him ask about them. That would lead to chaos_.

Malfoy's trivial smirk disappeared. "Where is your precious Pot-"

She interrupted. "Michael is very nice but you shouldn't fight with him. If you want to risk getting points taken off your House, fine. I'm not in charge of your doings, Malfoy." She went back to her seat, and sat down.

Malfoy stood by his chair and scoffed. "He's a Ravenclaw. They are just born idiots."

Hermione looked up at him. "I could do the same to you, Malfoy. But I would take twice as many points as he will. Then all you Slytherin buddies would blame it _all_ on you," Hermione said domineeringly.

Malfoy growled at the brown-haired witch. "You have no right to talk to me that way. I am way-"

Hermione pursed her lips and tucked a curl behind her ear. "Are we really going to fight again?"

Malfoy straightened his back and pierced his ice eyes into her brown ones. "Oh, what do you expect me to do? Sit around and talk to you like we are having a bloody tea party?"

"No! I-"

"McGonagall was wrong! I am _never _going to get along with a stupid, dictatorial, Mudblood! It's impossible for us to become affable partners! We would rather make spells to use against _ourselves_ instead of the _sodding _war!" he shouted at her.

Hermione shot up from her seat, a frown framing on her petite face. "Malfoy! This is the time where we are supposed to work together! You-"

Malfoy pointed his finger at her. "Don't waste your bloody Gryffindor soul on me, Granger!" his tongue felt like a snake when he didn't say Mudblood. "I can control myself, and I am going to talk to McGonagall about this. We are _never_-"

Hermione felt her cheeks growing pink. "I have no choice, Malfoy! I can't control what this school does!" she shrieked.

"I can make the school change their sodding minds! Just leave it be you stupid-"

"Why do you always have to find a way out?!" she screamed.

"Oh my God, Granger! Wake up! We are enemies! We can't work on a friend project when we are bloody foes!" he roared at her, but Hermione did not stand down.

"Maybe we could try to be-"

"GRANGER! SHUT UP! WE ARE ENEMIES, AND WE ALWAYS WILL BE!" he bellowed.

The last of his words ricocheted around the room like someone had used the killing curse on someone else.

Hermione felt shock in his words although they were true, but the fact that he used them so violently, was like a stab in the heart. She tilted her head down and shot her finger at the door. "Get out," she ordered. "Just get out."

Malfoy growled at her, and strode past her recklessly. He turned the knob and slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing around the room. Hermione kept her head down, and her soul felt crushed from accepting the fact that he would never ever do a project with her. Something about her being enemies with him forever made her heart stop.

She stormed to her room, and opened the door when someone stopped her.

"Hermione…"

She halted, but didn't turn around.

"Are you alright?" the male asked.

She turned around, and saw Michael. She forced a lying grin and sighed. "Yeah. It's just Malfoy… that's all," she said, sounding rather tired.

"I know who he is. Careless Slytherin. Horrible family. I know…" he approached Hermione with his hands in his pockets.

She looked up at him. "I know a lot more about him. We've been enemies ever since I got here. I thought I saw something nice in him this year but… I was very wrong."

"Just ignore him, and whatever he says. I mean he's called you a Mu-" he stopped himself and paused, "a bad word for a Muggleborn."

Hermione smiled. "I know that too. Don't worry. It doesn't affect me at all now. I'm proud of being a Mudblood."

Michael let out a dreamy chuckle that made Hermione grin. "Alright then. See you tomorrow." He curved to face his room.

"See you," Hermione murmured as she sauntered to her door. She unbolted the timber doors and entered halfway.

"Oh, and Hermione?" Michael called after her.

She rotated again, feeling quite exhausted. "Yes?"

He beamed at her. "I got your back, okay?"

She grinned vaguely. "Okay." She entered her room and closed the door.

Later that night, when the pale moonlight marginally shone through her stained glass window, she lie in bed thinking about how much she hated Malfoy. The same thoughts ran through her head every second.

No matter _how much_ she hated him, no matter _how much_ she wished he would die, there was this one piece that told her not to hate, and to be friends. He and she were still human beings.

No matter how hard she tried, she could not resolve that mystery, and it remained in her head forever.

* * *

A/N: Oh mah God! What happens next? Already working on it, but I just noticed how long this chapter was, so I split it! Okay… I know Draco is a complete jerk in this one, but this is Dramione! Do you notice that we like Dramione because it never happened? If it actually happened in the books and movies, we wouldn't make a ship out of it. So say it DID happen in the books, then we'd be shipping Ron and Hermione!

Haha, crazy, I know. :3 Sorry this took soooo long, but I do have school and all this stuff, so it's kind of hard to find this one moment when I have the energy and time to write! I brainstorm at school during free times, (Which never happens), but I always want to make sure to keep posting stories!

Thank you to my lovely followers that like and read my stories! (I'm sorry I haven't gave you a cookie yet). It would be a bad cookie though haha! Anyways, thank you for reading and reviewing, and I will see you guys on the next chapter! Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize.

Okay! I love you all! Xoxoxoxo

~Ice Mon 3


	6. Blood

**A/N:** Hola, amigos! Konichiwa, tomodachi! Hi friends! ^.^ This is my 5th chapter, technically. The fanfiction set up some how counted the prologue as a chapter, so it pushed the actual chapter's numbers forward by one. But, I don't think that will be a major problem because my followers- no- my EPIC followers would get a new chapter update, so I don't think it will be a big deal. :) So that's a good thing! :)

I won't keep you waiting on the chapter, so I will put the additional notes at the end. :) Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer**: I watched Batman the Dark Knight Rises, and the actor for Sirius Black was playing Gordon. (Gary Oldman). The police officer went over to him and said, "Sorry I didn't take you seriously" and I burst into laughter from irony. So please take me seriously and believe that I do not own anything from the Harry Potter series. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 5: Blood

Fall had started to tumble in, but at Hogwarts, the weather didn't seem to change, and it just felt even colder. Leaves started to let go from the grasp on the bare branches, and fell softly to the ground. Hermione appreciated fall. Although it was full of the extreme bitterness of the cold, she appreciated the colors of the almost bare trees, and the sky at sunset.

But today, especially, she liked it because the rain had finally stopped, leaving the ground marginally wet. The sky looked as if it was going to rain, but through the morning, no one could hear a single drop from the sky. She even thought about going outside later on in the day to sit by the lake.

Hermione decided to go to the library for her free period today because of Flitwick's absence. She almost passed McGonagall's office when a familiar voice halted her to a stop.

"I'm afraid I can't change anything," said McGonagall's exhausted voice.

"Yes you can! I cannot even sit across from her. She is impossible to get along with! We can't work together on this project," growled Malfoy's voice.

_Drama queen…_

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. If you refuse to work on the project with Ms. Granger, you will fail all your classes. And the rules clearly state-"

"I don't care what those rules are. I need to switch out partners," he said harshly.

She continued. "The rules state that this will increase bonding between people, or enemies! It was a random draw, and there is nothing I can do about it. It doesn't concern me about your problems between Ms. Granger," she said sternly.

There was an instant of silence, and Hermione kept her back to the wall around the corner and kept her eyes straight.

Malfoy growled at the teacher. "Never mind then. I'll talk to the Headmaster." Hermione heard him whip around and start walking.

"No!" yelled McGonagall's voice. Hermione slightly jumped; she had never heard her favorite teacher yell as loud as that.

She heard Malfoy stop walking.

She almost pleaded to Malfoy. "Please… do not say anything about this project to Severus."

"Why not?" he spat, suddenly enquiring.

Hermione heard McGonagall clamp her hand to her face.

"He doesn't know about this."

Hermione's stomach flipped and she brought a hand up to her mouth in disbelief.

_He doesn't know about this? If he found out, he would punish us all! Merlin, Malfoy why do you always have to ruin everything?_

There was no talking, but Hermione could feel the tension even from outside of the class.

"If he finds out," she said like a whisper, "You-Know-Who will kill us all."

"Won't he already do that?"

"Possibly, but then he will learn exactly what we are doing, and he can destroy Hogwarts once and for all. Please, Mr. Malfoy. You aren't on his side, are you?"

The room was hushed, and Hermione felt her breathing get harder.

"No," he lied and he exited the room.

Hermione embraced the books in her arms so tight, she thought she would bend one. She felt herself slightly shaking and her breaths were becoming increasingly dissolute.

"Enjoyed the speech, Mudblood?"

Hermione whipped her head around. "I have no idea what you are talking about," she lied, walking away from him.

"Hey! Don't you sodding turn your back on me after you've heard that whole conversation." He started striding after her. "You can be really snoopy sometimes, Granger!"

Hermione ignored him and started increasing her speed, and strode outside.

"Mudblood!" he roared after her.

Hermione felt her stomach twist like someone was about to strangle her. She didn't want to talk to Malfoy after all he did. She didn't want to work with him anymore. She stopped walking and brought her books closer to her like it was a blanket. She shivered in the cold. She could feel Malfoy's presence behind her and it felt like an icy breeze. "You can't tell Snape, Malfoy."

"And why not?" he hissed.

She whipped around and approached him. "It would ruin everything. He still works for You-Know-Who…"

_So do I._

Malfoy looked at her plain face. "So you think he would tell You-Know-Who?" he said.

Hermione licked her lips and nodded. "As McGonagall said, he would kill us all."

"He's already going to try and do that, Granger." His tongue felt folded after saying her last name.

"Maybe, but he is going to start at a faster pace. He's going to kill McGonagall, all the teachers, and then, eventually, me."

Those words hit Draco through the stomach for some reason. His mouth twitched to the tone of her words. "Why you after all the teachers?"

Hermione let out a shuddering sigh. "Because I'm Head Girl, and it's my responsibility to make sure everything is going right." She looked up at him in his silver eyes. "I hope you wouldn't want to wish death on me."

For a moment all Hermione could sense was the sound of the leaves blowing by her and Malfoy, and the piney scent of either him or the trees, as she waited for his answer. Malfoy moved toward her slowly with a smirk.

He was a mere 2 inches away from her, and her face was up to his neck.

_What was he doing?_

She breathed in; and-indeed- the pine smell was from him. His chest heaved with his manly breaths, and she resisted the urge to breath in more of his scent. She wondered what he was doing, until he grasped her dainty shoulders, brought his pale lips down to her ear and whispered with a devilish smirk," You know Granger?" He hissed in a deceiving whisper, "I would love to see you die."

His breath ran down her neck like sand, and she almost shivered to the ghostly tone of his voice. Hermione closed her eyes and clenched her fists in the reply of her question. She wasn't surprised. Malfoy would always be her enemy it seemed, and nothing could change that. Although he was cruel, she didn't wish death on him.

"Are we still project partners then?" she asked pushing away from the scowling blonde.

"No," came the direct answer.

She forced a nod, acting as calm as she could. "Very well then." And she left him there, standing on the slightly mushy grass, gaping at the trees. 2 leaves fell, then 1 leaf. Then, there was one last one, hanging on the end of a twig. And when Draco blinked, it toppled to the ground.

* * *

"Incendio,"she said as she pointed her wand at the base of the cauldron.

The fire started under the cauldron and she got out her potions book. She traced her finger along the line of ingredients.

The classroom was nearly empty, and only a few partners were working on their potions, while Hermione was all by herself. She went to the cabinet and grabbed her ingredients, while thinking to herself that she could do this without Malfoy's help.

As she poured in the crystallized water, a voice startled her, almost making her drop her spoon in the cauldron.

"Hello Ms. Granger," said Professor McGonagall.

Hermione smiled at the teacher. "Oh, hello Professor." She turned to her concoction and gradually stirred it with the spoon.

"Where is Mr. Malfoy?" she asked her face carving into a very inquisitive state.

Hermione sighed and tied her curls into a messy bun behind her head. "He's declining to work with me. I tried everything but…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say.

McGonagall took off her spectacles and cleaned them with the edge of her opaque robes. "It's alright Ms. Granger. If he wants to get a bad report, that is what he will get." She showed a fake grin to the student.

Hermione smiled back and added a bit of Wormwood to the potion.

McGonagall heard footsteps to her right and turned her head, a frown covering her face. Hermione looked up at her with a concerned face. "Professor, what's the matter?"

She turned to Hermione. "It's Severus," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You mustn't tell him anything. Keep quiet." She shuffled to her desk quickly.

Hermione turned her head, and absolute shock framed her face; it was Snape. He marched in slowly, with his familiar jet-black cape and suit. He peered around with his dark eyes, and observed the pair of students doing their potions. The whole room fell quiet when he entered, and the temperature felt as if it dropped 10 degrees. All frightened eyes were glued to the dark Headmaster.

Snape whipped his head to the right, looking right at Hermione. "Ms. Granger," he sneered. "You have come to finish your last year here." He paused for several seconds, until his eyes swapped to her potion. He peered inside and crinkled his nose. "You might want to watch your Oculus Potion, Ms. Granger. You need more of the Unicorn Horn." He continued to strut toward McGonagall's desk.

Hermione swallowed while looking after him, but didn't add more of the horn. She would never listen to someone who killed the best wizard in the world.

She tried to hear what Snape and McGonagall were saying, but she couldn't catch any of it. She only heard the contrast of the low and high voices of theirs. Professor McGonagall looked tired, but she could tell that she was informing him that they were simply only doing potions, not a secret project.

After a few minutes of occasional stirring and checking on Snape and McGonagall, Snape had turned on his heel, and exited the doors.

_Thank Merlin nothing went wrong…_

Yet.

* * *

It was after dinnertime, but Hermione felt like she needed more practice on her potions. Snape had said that she needed to add something, and he was potions master so it would be preeminent to listen to him. But, however, he was Snape and he despised Gryffindors and-especially-her. He killed Dumbledore, and she hated him. She almost hated him more than Malfoy. But overall, she needed extra practice, since bloody Malfoy decided not to be her partner. She had only consumed a portion of her plate, and didn't feel like eating the rest. Ginny had been stewing her relentlessly about eating more, but Hermione had politely denied. Food was the last thing that appealed to her senses right now. School did.

She ran straight to the practice room and started up her cauldron again by flicking her wand at it. She opened her book to the Blood- Replenishing Potion. Nobody was there, and they all went to their Houses to play games like wizard's chess.

She pointed at the line with the directions. "_Okay…_ so," she breathed out. She silently gasped when she heard footsteps outside of the classroom, and whipped her head around.

"Oh, Ms. Granger," McGonagall said planting her palm over her chest. "What are you doing here? Surely you would want to go to your Gryffindor house? They are having a ball of a time…"

Hermione shook her head and grinned. "I'm okay. I would rather practice my work." She gestured to her obscure, bubbling cauldron.

McGonagall checked her watch. "Oh, dear are you sure? You would rather work on a potion then go have fun?" she asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'm sure, Professor. I'll be fine. I'm going to do patrol later on tonight with Michael, so I will only be in here for a little while."

The professor clamped her hands together and gave her a concerning smile. "You really are an inordinate witch, Ms. Granger."

Hermione just smiled. She had been getting those salutations for a long time now, and she appreciated the thought that she was a moral witch.

McGonagall exhaled sounding slightly disenchanted. "Okay, well, I'll leave you to it then," She smiled and shuffled out of the room.

Hermione turned back to her potion and tied her curls messily to the back of her head, and shoved her sleeves up to her elbows. "Alright, let's see here…" she scanned her eyes across the page and bit her lip. "Unicorn hair…" she dashed a bit of the hair in her concoction.

For minutes the sound of only the bubbling of her mixture filled Hermione's ears. She peered in her cauldron, and beamed in delight, that all was going well so far. All the sudden, slow, dense footsteps echoed outside her room, and Hermione whipped her head to the side, almost spilling her potion mixture. With silent pants, she gradually reached out for her wand on the table and pointed it in front of her.

The shadow grew larger and larger on the marble floor, and her grip on the wand tightened, as she grew tense. The shadow came to an end, and the stranger slowly opened the door.

_Malfoy_.

His face was calculating and tomblike, and he had his wand pointed at her too.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same Malfoy," Hermione said, still not placing her wand down.

_I'm looking for clues so my boss can burn down this bloody school properly…_

"None of your concern, Granger," he spat, showing no emotion so she couldn't infer that he was lying.

"I have every right to know why you're here," she said harshly, making him smirk.

He clicked his tongue, moving around the table. "Once again, you have proven yourself snoopy, Granger. Lower your wand," he spat, pointing at her wand.

For once, Hermione agreed to his order, and stuffed it back in her pocket. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I think you should leave. I have a lot of work to be done." She approached her cauldron as Malfoy lowered his black wand.

He looked at her mixture and his jaw clenched in disapproval; the potion was yellow, and murky in color. He looked up at the conjecturing Gryffindor. "You call this "work"?" he asked rudely.

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded toward her book. "Maybe if you actually read, the Blood- Replenishing potion is supposed to look like this at stage 3." She pointed to the steps. She informed to him like he was a child. "And then you add some fairy-"

"Oh, shut up, Granger. Like I have time to listen to your constant infuriating babble about books." He turned his face to the door and started sauntering toward the doors.

"Like you have time for anything these days, Malfoy." She called after him and he stopped. "All you do at school is taunt people about how filthy or clean their blood is. You can't even tell that I would _like_ to make fun of your "perfect" family."

Malfoy turned around, his face tilted down, and his features shadowed with blank, obscure sleuths. He pointed a threatening finger at her. "Don't you ever, mention my family when you don't know _anything_ about them," he growled like a murderer. He approached her as Hermione stood straight, and poised where she was.

"I know all about your family, Malfoy. I know that they think they are better than _anyone_, just because they are Purebloods. But what I don't understand, is that they secede from You-Know-Who and that they are still alive," she turned toward her cutting board, and started chopping the fairy muscles.

Malfoy clenched his jaw and positioned himself across the table from her, watching her intently. He noticed she looked different when she didn't have all the hair in her face. She didn't look up, and was nibbling her lip on her concentrating of dicing her ingredients.

"At least my blood isn't filthy, like yours."

Hermione stopped cutting, and moved her hazel eyes up to his ice ones. "I thought you've already moved on from that stage."

"From when?" he spat.

"From last year. You threatened Hogwarts, and the greatest wizard of all time is… _gone _because of _you_," she said informingly, she kept dicing her muscles.

Malfoy slammed his palms on the table, causing the cauldron to start steaming. "_Damn it_, Granger. Do you think I had a _choice_?! I was _bloody_ forced to!" he yelled.

Hermione shook her head, and rearranged the muscles so she could dice them up even smaller. "I don't believe any bit of it."

Malfoy threw his hands in the air. "Of course you don't. The last person I would want to believe me, is a Mudblood," he spat at her like he was eating venom. The cauldron was now fizzing.

"Bugger," Hermione said harshly as she ran to the cauldron. She absently stirred the potion, and it had red bubbles developing at the top. She looked at Malfoy with angry eyes. "Now look what you did!" she spat over the hissing of the mixture.

Malfoy clenched his teeth together. "_Me_?! What the hell did I do! Why do you always have to blame _every single thing_ on me?!" he roared as his nails dug into his palms.

"Your presence of anger upset the potion." She gazed up at Malfoy, who looked at her in skepticism. "Potions can have human feelings too, especially this one since it is a human blood replenishing tonic." Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed at the cauldron. "_Reducio_!" An invisible force shot out of her wand and hit the fire, and the bubbling almost came to a halt.

Hermione sighed and wiped the little bits of sweat on her forehead.

_That was too close._

She looked up at Malfoy, who looked unambiguously ready to throw a hex at Hermione.

"If you think Purebloods are superior, why don't you try making one of these potions yourself," she gestured at her tamed potion. "Go on. Don't let a Muggleborn beat you to it."

Malfoy felt the magic tension build up in between the two of them. "You said the wrong word, Granger. It's _Mudblood_, not Muggleborn," he said.

Hermione groaned out in irritation. "What is the point with you calling Muggles Mudbloods?!"

Malfoy licked his teeth and smirked. "It's what their blood is. Filthy blood. It is just a waste to be put in the wizarding world."

"Oh, so you expect our blood to be filthy, like mud?!" she spat, feeling tears prickle in her eyes.

"Yes," he shouted at her.

"Malfoy, there is no way that Purebloods become on top of this! In the Muggle world, we _could_ infer _Purebloods_ as you call _Mudbloods_!" she shrieked, feeling her cheeks getting warm.

Malfoy turned stern, and callous again. "Stupid Mudblood. If Muggles don't have the right to say anything like that. Muggles are disgusting, and always will be!"

"YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME, MALFOY! IM TRYING TO SAY-"

"NO, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK ABOUT PUREBLOODS LIKE THAT!" Malfoy's eyes turned mercury again, and observed as Hermione was rosy cheeked, and glossy eyed.

The tension in the room was almost unbearable, and the two teenagers were making it worse by the minute by fighting against their blood.

Hermione felt tears sting her eyes, but she refused to let them flow down.

"Call me a Mudblood, one more time," she said with a trembling, threatening voice.

The room felt hushed, as silence flooded between the two teens. Draco observed the mighty Gryffindor, and heard her silent pants coming from her perfectly shaped lips. He felt something stir in his gut, and he tried to push the feeling away. She was a Mudblood. She was a bossy, arrogant, tough Mudblood. She always beat him in any test, or question. He _hated_ her. Absolutely _despised_ her. Without thinking, he clenched his fists and gaped straight into her eyes.

"Mudblood," he heard himself murmur.

Hermione felt the word hit her again, and she snatched the magic knife from the board, and chucked it at Malfoy, nearly missing him by an inch or two. The knife hovered and ricocheted off the cabinet doors, and the sound of knife meeting flesh two times echoed around the room. It finally collapsed to the ground with a clatter. Hermione cringed slightly to the pain, but she didn't stand down, no matter how much it hurt.

Draco groaned out in pain, as he grasped his right arm; the knife had cut a slit on his pale skin, and blood was trickling down his arm. The piece of cloth was chopped off from the knife and Draco's hand was covered with warm blood.

"_What the hell did you do_?!" he bellowed at the girl. But when he looked up at her, he saw tears streaming down her cheeks, her face like a poised warrior, and her hands and upper arm covered in the red substance that looked exactly like his.

Blood.

Malfoy's lips parted and he eyed back at his trembling, bloody hand and back at Granger's. His silent masculine breaths became steadfast. Despite the fact she had tried to kill him a few seconds ago was preposterous. He had known Granger as a robust Gryffindor, but he never expected her to actually _try_ and hurt him.

Granger's hands looked like as if they had been drenched in a bucket of inflamed paint. She strode around the table right in front of Malfoy. He examined her cut in disbelief, and his eyes turned lightly iced again. The knife had left more of a gash in her skin, rather than a slit on Malfoy's. It was bleeding heavily on her cream skin and he was staggered why she wasn't in pain. But she almost killed him, and for some reason her felt like hurting her.

"WHY THE HELL DID YOU TRY TO KILL ME, GRANGER?! YOU COULD OF HIT ME BY THROWING A BLOODY KNIFE-"

A wet blow to the cheek cut off his words. Hermione's red hand smashed across his pale cheek, hard, and he hissed out in pain as he steadied himself on the table. He started turning around. His cheek felt prickly and hot from the slap.

"YOU THINK MY BLOOD IS WORTHLESS?" She screamed at him shoving her arm to him, as she mutely cringed in pain. "IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE MUD TO ME!"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "I didn't mean it like that-"

"IT LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE YOUR BLOOD MALFOY! IT LOOKS LIKE PUREBLOOD!" She shrieked at the emotionless Slytherin.

"Granger-"

"DARK RED, AND WARM!" she yelled at Malfoy, tears piling in her eyes. The gash dispersed new dark red liquid. "It doesn't look like mud!" She said more quietly. "It's not mud…" she calmed down like a fire being covered by a pan.

Malfoy could only gape in implausible emotions at the Gryffindor. Her head was turned to the side, and tears trickled down her face. Her bun was no longer secure at the back of her head, but now was hanging in front of her face like she was a rattled doll. Her right arm was drenched in her blood, and her hand was now crusted with dry blood. Her chest shook with tiny choked sobs and the sound pricked Draco every time.

Her physical presentation of her showing her blood really hit Draco. He had never seen her act this way in his life, and it showed that she had another enigmatic side in her life that he did not know of. She was known as the tough, bossy, sniffy Gryffindor, but he had never experienced this much toughness from her. The first time was in 3rd year when she offhandedly slapped him in the face like she did, but this time, he felt a spark of detestation.

He looked up again, but Granger was already gone.

He left to his room, which was no longer covered with dust and cobwebs, but was no decorated to Draco's liking, dark, secure, and open setting. He strode to the bathroom, and took off his shirt, examining his cut. It was not bleeding, but it was colored with a thick coat of dried blood. The blood had left a chaotic mark on his arm, and it looked like a miniature crime scene. He looked up in the mirror, and his eyes widened in revelation.

His cheek was covered with an opaque stain of Granger's slap. Her dried blood left his face feeling warm. The blood had trickled down to his chin, and it slightly resembled her handprint. He washed his face in the sink, and looked in the mirror as the blood started to turn pink and fall from his face. That blood was almost like a mark imprinted on him; it took some time to finally remove it all. He also cleaned the wound on his arm, which was nothing major. He thought back to what had caused Granger to break out like that. He washed himself up, and climbed into bed feeling somewhat cold without the blood traced on his face.

Since 1st year, he had thought Granger as the two boys she was always trailing along with. But, she resembled much more than them. She had this feisty soul that Malfoy always wanted to challenge and try to defeat. Potter and Weasley marginally resembled her, but they had never actually hurt his feelings. Weasley would threaten, but he wouldn't have the guts to hurt him. Granger could hurt him any time she pleased, and that made her different from them. She had this strength of a thousand men that could never be defeated.

* * *

The next day, Draco had felt the need to talk to Granger, and demand what her problem was. The need of her almost killing him last night was barbaric, and he decided to go to Head's and mandate her for information.

After his classes, he head toward her room, but almost forgetting one of the most major things of all.

_Hell_, he forgot to get clues for the Dark Lord.

_Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks._

The Gryffindor had blocked his path in retrieving information for his boss, or simply he just didn't ignore her? But either way, he had a choice to tell him about the 7th year project, or just simply say he didn't get any information. He couldn't say anything about Granger. This weird feeling that she would be brought to the Malfoy Manor flooded his mind, and he could just see her being tortured. His mind felt squeezed again, and he trailed off to a dark hallway, so no one could hear him Apparate if he had to. If he told him about the project, he wouldn't be tortured, but if he didn't, the foulest pain would gratify his soul, and nerves that could crush him to the ground like never before. Draco rested his back against the wall, and clenched his fists together.

Merlin, he knew it was happening. His arm felt like it was being fried by a blazing hot sun, and his mind filled with just two words; Yes or no. He heard the scaring whispers of Voldemort's Parseltongue voice, and everything disappeared in front of him. A swirl engulfed the setting, and he felt like he was flying in the middle of nowhere, and a strange whirring of the wind spun around him, and then it all stopped. His vision cleared up again, and he could smell the regular old, pine smell of his home, and he landed on the opaque wood floor, kneeling as he steadied himself. He stood up, as he glanced around, feeling happy to be in his house again.

"Draco," he felt his mother wrap her arms around his neck. He embraced her back slightly. He looked up, seeing his father looking slightly disappointed. His mother stopped embracing him, and turned around, her smile disappearing. She walked toward him.

"Lucius," she whispered as she grasped his arm, which was holding a glass of red wine. "It's your son."

Lucius simply just stared at his son, who resembled much of his features. He scowled at him, almost like he was in disgust. Draco simply looked at the ground.

"Draco," hissed the dark man's voice.

Draco whipped around, hearing those words in his head again. He marched up to his throne, and bowed. "My, Lord," he said.

"Have you got any information for me?" he asked.

Silence filled the room, as Draco kept his head straight. His eyes nervously looked to his side, and he clenched his jaw.

"N-no…" he replied, his voice shaking.

Voldemort frowned. "No?" he repeated as Nagini trailed up his chair.

Malfoy shook his head. "No."

Draco could swear he heard his mother weeping, and he looked at the other Death Eaters in the room. They all were bulky, and had their arms crossed. They had a nasty scowl, and they shook their heads at the Draco.

Voldemort had got up from his seat, and Nagini trailed after him.

"_Wormtail_!" he yelled, as his voice echoed around the room.

The poor, desperate man hustled in with the Dark Lord's wand. His hands shook as he raised them, and he bowed his head. "My Lord," he trembled.

Draco knew what was happening and he looked at his parents. Narcissa was sobbing hopelessly, and his father was shaking his head in discontent.

"Away with you!" spat Voldemort as he flicked his wand at Wormtail. He shot out of the room with a yelp, and the door slammed behind him.

Voldemort faced Draco, while he studied his wand. He sneered with an evil mood. "Now, Draco," he hissed. "This will show you the first step of what happens when you disobey my orders."

Draco looked at the ground, slightly shaking. He suddenly wished it were Granger who was taking his place.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Draco.

"Welcome back to the world, Draco."

* * *

**A/N**: Oh no! What will happen to Draco?! :( You'll find out in the next chapter! I'm so happy that I got this published right after I finished the other one! :) I'm sorry if this one was short. I'm trying to make every chapter 5,000 words or more, so I won't have to make a billion chapters. I'm already working on my next one. Hopefully I will finish before my weekend ends! Thank you everyone for reviewing, liking, and following! :) I could never be happier to have readers! I hope this story will go on until summer so then I have all the time in the world to write! Writing is basically my world now. Without it, I'm lost.

Alrighty, my epic Dramione fans! Oh, and please tell me if I'm doing a good job? I'm not a high level writer, but this is how I normally write. :) Hope it's not drab. Thanks for reading everyone! I wish you all happiness! Oh, and Happy St. Patrick's Day! Green reminds me of Green Day! They are awesome! Anyhoo, I'll see you guys later! :)) Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize.

Thanks for reading! xoxoxoxox

Ice Monsta


	7. Reunited

**Disclaimer**: I own at being a complete idiot sometimes, but I do not own the Harry Potter series. :)

Chapter 6: Reunited

His groans of pain echoed the Malfoy Manor like a shotgun. The Cruciatus Curse from the Dark Lord was even worse then when his father did it. When Lucius had carelessly shot the curse at his own son, the pain felt like a million little knifes striking him. But when Voldemort had done it, it felt like he had been hit with 20 spells at one time. His bones felt dislocated with every shot, and his head felt like he had been standing up too fast. His vision was blurry, and black, and he writhed in pain as groans escaped from his mouth. He could tell that his mother was trying to hold back screams to help her son. Lucius just stood there like a shadow, watching intently.

"_Crucio_!"

Malfoy felt the knives strike, bones break, vision blur, and nerves burst open. He tried to resist a grunt, and he bit his lip so it wouldn't derive from his mouth. He felt all the blood from his feet rush up to his brain, and it felt like someone was repeatedly striking his head against a brick wall. He pained on the floor, like a hopeless snake, and his lip started bleeding from holding in his voice. It all came out at once like a desperate cry. His heart throbbed against his chest, and his nerves shook like crazy until he finally stopped the curse.

He let out an exhausted groan, and panted against the floor, as blood trickled down his lip.

"Pick him up!" yelled Voldemort. "You and Greyback!" he pointed to a bulky man. Draco felt to strong hands yank him off the ground. "He is going to be a test on my new spell," he hissed, a smirk developing on his face.

The two men hastily shoved him against the wall, his face fronting the wall. He felt them grasp his wrists hard, and I felt like a lion had clenched his teeth on his hand.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Draco. Draco braced himself for what torture spell he was going to use next. "_Frusta_!" he heard him hiss, and a sharp pain struck his back. It felt as if a whip was striking him. He slumped his head and he hollered out in pain. This was even worse than the Cruciatus Curse.

He heard the rapid whipping from his wand that reached his back. His suit was torn in the spots where he had struck him, and blood streamed down his back.

"_Consider yourself lucky, Draco…."_

Greyback was chuckling in amusement as the whipping continued. Draco felt his head grow hot, and his eyes stung as they watered. No, he wasn't crying, but it was like watered fears. He finally felt his world go black, and it was if he had flown into space, but there was no stars, nor any planets. Just him.

* * *

"Draco, wake up," soothed a voice.

Draco fluttered his eyes open, and his blurred vision cleared up. His mother was gently stroking his blonde hair. Her eyes were filled with pity, and sadness.

"Mum," he croaked out as he tried to get up. It hurt. It hurt _really_ badly. His back was extremely sore from the whipping, and his nerves had still stung from the pain of the curse.

"Don't," she hushed placing her hand on his arm. "You need to recover."

He settled down and viewed around. It was not so shadowy as the Malfoy Manor, and it smelled of an oak tree. "Where am I?"

"At the hidden underground chapel. I took you here so the Dark Lord wouldn't find me with you."

"What happened?" he asked cringing from the stinging pain.

"You got unconscious, and so then everyone left, except for me." Tears started forming in her eyes and her lip trembled. "I'm sorry, Draco. I could've stopped it, but I didn't do anything."

He shushed her. "It's okay, Mother. Don't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong. It was my fault for not telling him I was interrupted by Grang-" he stopped, mentally cursing for his mistake.

His mother arched an eyebrow. "Who?" she asked softly.

Draco sighed and licked his lips. "Hermione Granger," he said. His mouth twitched from saying her full name.

Her eyes turned into wide dinner plates. "H-hermione Granger? The Mudblood?"

His mother was not the type of person to hate on Muggles. But, when she married Lucius, his control was over her, and she had to start hating on them too, and she had no choice.

He looked at his mother dead straight in the eye. "Mother. You mustn't tell _anyone_ about this."

His mother grasped his hand tightly, knowing it was for her son. "I promise."

Draco sighed and looked down. "We were assigned as partners for a project, as I already told you about it. McGonagall said that I shouldn't tell Snape, because he doesn't know about it. McGonagall's afraid that if he finds out, he will tell the Dark Lord, and that way they think Hogwarts will be destroyed faster."

Narcissa looked down and swallowed. "Would you tell Severus?" she asked quietly.

Draco looked at his mother and squeezed her hand. He really didn't know. He still didn't know who he really was. Was he good, or bad? He couldn't really observe himself, and was lost. He was just _lost_. "I don't know, mum. Everyone is messing with my brain. I can't tell what is right or wrong."

Narcissa looked up at his disgruntled son, and stroked his hair. "Draco, it's alright."

"No it's not. I can't find my way in life," he growled, looking away.

Narcissa sighed and gaped at her son with gloomy eyes. "Then, find someone to help you," she advised tenderly.

Draco clenched his jaw, and nodded. He glared at the clock. It was almost after dinnertime. He had been unconscious for a long time. "I should go mum. I have stuff to do at school," he said as he could get up a little easier. The medication had healed him almost completely, but scars were still imprinted on his back.

She bobbed her head and helped him get up. He was in a new, clean suit that wasn't ripped to shreds, and he towered over his mother as she straightened his tie sadly.

Narcissa fixed his collar, and she hugged him, perceptive about how much pain that he was going through right now was appalling. "Be safe, Draco," she sighed near his shoulder.

He embraced back. "I will, mother. Don't worry," he comforted.

She let go of him and backed up slowly, and intriguingly watched him about to leave.

"Don't tell anyone, mother. I will find the time when it is right." He kissed her forehead while she dejectedly nodded. And with that, he Apparated out of the chapel, leaving his mother standing in his echoes.

* * *

Hermione viewed at herself in the mirror. She looked miserable with dark circles under her eyes, and her gash that had barely healed. She had been dying for a shower, and now she got her wish. She wriggled out of her school jumper, and her skirt, and removed every thing on her body as she hopped into the shower. The warm water seemed to sooth her stiff muscles, and it drenched her hair, leaving it straight.

After washing herself delightfully for another 10 minutes, she dried herself up and put on a tank top and baggy sweats. Her arm stung from the shower, and she needed to heal it, day after day. She brought the medicine that she read about that could heal gashes in 3 days, and sat down on the couch. She dabbed her finger in the medicine and applied some to her wound. She gasped out in the stinging, but it soothed away after she massaged it in for a while.

A knocking at the door broke her away from applying the next layer, and she walked toward the door. She snatched her jacket and shoved it on, feeling cautious about who was at the door. She peered through the magic eyeball, and there stood an exhausted looking Malfoy. She grabbed the doorknob tightly, thinking twice about opening the door for him. She bit her lip and mentally kicked herself for answering as she cracked the door open a bit. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

He looked at her with his pained, mercury eyes. "Can I come in?" he asked.

"Why?" she eyed him up and down.

He sighed, massaging his temple. "I need to ask you about last night."

"There's nothing we have to talk about," she spat, as she closed the door.

Malfoy stopped it with his hand. "No. We _need _to talk about it, Granger." His eyes pierced into her hazel ones.

She gaped at him inquiringly and bit her lip. She opened the door thoroughly. "_Fine._ But only for a little bit," she said as she walked to the couch.

He followed her in, and shut the door behind him. He eyed her and just noticed that she was staring at him with her great honey orbs. He snatched his eyes away, blinking in incredulity.

Hermione linked her fingers with her hands and pursed her lips as she sat down. He took a seat still looking at her.

"So?" she asked. "What is it?"

"I want to ask why you threw a bloody knife a me," he spat, as his face turned ghostly again.

Hermione looked down, biting her lip. "About that," she stuttered. "I-I'm sorry," she murmured, her honey eyes meeting up with his ice ones again.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Sorry isn't going to be enough, Granger. You owe-"

"See? This is your problem!" she shouted as she faced him more.

His face became emotionless. "Wha-"

"You say we are enemies, and then you don't expect me to be nice to you. But then, when I am acting, as you say, too violent, you want payback! I'm sick and tired of you throwing me around like that like a little doll!" she yelled.

Draco was shocked by her words, but simply ran his fingers through his hair and eyed her. "Killing someone is not part of being an enemy," he spat.

"But you would like to kill me, wouldn't you?" she asked sensitively. His features were detached. "If you could, wouldn't you?"

Draco shut his mouth. He did really want to kill her. He always did. But the fact of not having someone to taunt other than Weasley and Potter was pitiful almost. His head suddenly shot up.

"Where are your Potter and Weasley? Shouldn't they be clinging on to you for dear life? They can't even take care of themselves."

Hermione lost sentiment in her face and sat straight up. "They…" she started. "They are doing work for the wizarding aurors. That's why they're not at school. They receive an immense amount of extra credit," she lied as she looked away unnervingly.

His ice eyes narrowed at her face. "You're lying," he spat.

Hermione looked up at him, parting her lips.

_How did he know?_

She peered at the door in alert when Michael walked in. His eyes swapped to a mercury-eyed Malfoy, and his features turned callous.

"_You_…" he growled as he reached for his wand.

Malfoy stood up and his hand shot out, holding his black wand.

Hermione ran to attention and bolted at the two teens.

"You called Hermione a Mudblood…"

"Michael!" she screamed pushing him out of the way.

His features slightly softened, and he marginally lowered his wand staring down at her. "Hermione… this idiot…"

She held up her hand. "I know what he is, and I know what he's done. I think as Head Boy, it would be appropriate to take points off instead of attacking," she regimented gently.

Michael looked up at Malfoy whose face was caressed with dark shades and his wand still pointed at him, and he sighed. He shoved his wand in his pocket and gave Malfoy a deathly glare.

"15 points will be taken off, _Malfoy_," he spat softly, looking back at Hermione.

Hermione felt relief flood back into her body and she sighed turning around as Michael approached the disgruntled Malfoy.

Michael curved his mouth into a ghastly frown. "You hurt Hermione again, and you wish you were never born," Michael hissed.

Draco just kept his dark scowl on his face as he shoved the wand back in his pocket. He glanced at Hermione, who was looking at him enquiringly and crossly. He shoved past Michael, and strode out of the room, slamming the portrait behind him.

Hermione looked at the ground, feeling the slam echo in her head. Michael was Head Boy, but she noticed that he was particularly concerned about her being browbeaten by Malfoy. She felt warmth grow in front of her as she gaped up; Michael's warm, brown eyes looked down at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Hermione blinked and tried to avoid him. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied softly.

"Look, Hermione," he stopped her, grabbing her wrist. She turned around curiously and trailed her eyes up to his unadulterated face. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Hermione felt her chest flutter from those words. Her eyes widened a little, and she gaped at him in oddity. She had never heard those words said to her, almost like a lullaby.

Michael looked at her earnestly, waiting for an answer.

Hermione just blinked, and parted her lips. "I know about Malfoy, Michael. I can deal with him. He couldn't hurt me even if he tried."

Michael sighed and let go of her wrist. "Okay. But I don't mind fighting him. I-"

"Michael," she stopped him. "Please… don't…"

"Okay…" he shoved his hands in his pockets and gave that dazzling smile to Hermione. "Good night, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, and turned to her door and slowly entered her room.

One question bugged Hermione that night, which made her restless in her sleep.

_Why had Michael been so concerned about her arguments with Malfoy?_

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling refreshed for some reason. Although she could barely sleep, her senses had felt that 5 hours was still enough sleep. She shrugged and peered out the window. Autumn was clearly recognizable outside; the leaves had all been altered into shades of green, orange, brown, and a crusty rust color. The trees were almost bare from the virulent cold, and the sky was the musky shade of grey.

Hermione changed into her school uniform, and brushed her teeth in the bathroom. As she exited, feeling invigorated, she almost crashed into Michael, as he was about to knock on the door. She balanced herself, but Michael grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

She slightly chuckled and looked up at Michael. "Sorry about that," she said, feeling her cheeks grow balmy. Her hand had felt relatively warm in his.

He laughed, giving out an expression that made Hermione smile. "It's fine, Hermione. You're just a little clumsy, that's all."

She pursed her lips and turned to get her books. She slung the tan bag over her shoulder and headed toward the door hastily, opening the portrait.

"Hermione," Michael called out to her.

She turned slowly, facing Michael halfway. She heard him walk around the room, gathering his stuff, and he approached her.

"C'mon. I'm not going alone." He held the door open, as she smiled and walked past him.

They both headed toward the Great Hall, laughing and talking to each other.

Hermione found out that they had a lot in common, and Michael made her smile. He had always made her cheer up after a hard day, and she appreciated the fact that there was someone like Harry and Ron to hang around with. He had Harry's charm, and Ron's abnormal humor. It was like having Ron and Harry in one person, but he was totally different. They ate at the same table, and Hermione resisted the urge to smile after some of his jokes, and stories of his inaccuracies at Hogwarts.

Draco gaped at the two students socializing at the Gryffindor table. Something about seeing Granger laugh with Hawthorne. His gut twisted, and his chest started throbbing with hatred. Or jealousy.

_No_. Not bloody jealousy.

Just _hatred._

But Draco wished Granger would stop talking with the stupid Ravenclaw. All he wanted was to tell her _something_, but the dim-witted _Hawthorne_ wouldn't allow it. The green apple in his fist started dispersing juice from him squeezing it with his frustration. The apple turned into pulp in his fist, as he watched the two teens laughing.

"Draco," said Goyle, gaping at the crushed apple. "What the h-"

Draco shot up from his seat and stalked out of the Great Hall. He gaped around the halls, until he found the right hallway, and stormed down the walk. He stopped at the wall, as his eyes trailed over it. It was just as he remembered last year. He closed his eyes gradually, and waited until her heard the rumbling of the wall disperse in front of him. He fluttered his eyes open, and the wall had opened up for him. The Room Of Requirement.

He slowly walked through the dark wall, and his eyes scanned around the room. The wall shut behind him, and he turned back to the wall in caution. He heard a whizzing sound, just across the room. It was faint, and it sounded like a whirring of a music box. Draco took his wand out, slowly walking to the sound. As it got louder and louder, I finally halted to a stop.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows as he pointed his lit wand at a pile of rubbish, draped with a burgundy cloth. He shoved the cloth off, and he narrowed his curious ice eyes at the object. A glowing, white object with a beautiful angel moving on it was sitting on the pile of opaque items. Draco kneeled next to the gorgeous girl on the box, and she started to smile. Her eyes were sapphire, and her skin was pale, and clean. Her night-black hair was floating behind her like soft waves, and her pale pink lips smiled at Draco. Her smile was not happy, nor sad. It was a serious, peaceful beam that framed her flawless face perfectly. She hummed a heavenly tune, almost like a whisper of a group of warriors.

_The clouds are cold,_

_The sky is grey,_

_The sound of the bold,_

_Have come to pray._

_The wind is alone,_

_The trees did sway,_

_The sound of the bold,_

_Have come to pray._

_Hmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm_

_He is the night,_

_The shivering ice,_

_His eyes of lie,_

_We pay the price._

_Do not fear my little children,_

_Those that want to find,_

_Call for me, for I am Lauren,_

_And freedom will untwine._

The angel seemed to die away, and her echoing song of clandestine and beauty faded away into the darkness, leaving Draco cold, and muddled. The song seemed to tell a story, but he didn't know of what. The angel's name was Lauren, and she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Draco picked up the box gently, and whipped his head around, looking for a safe place to hide the unusual object. As for the Room Of Requirement, there were so many places to hide things, but for something this special, in Draco's opinion, he wanted to keep it out of anyone's reach.

She seemed like his only friend right now.

* * *

Malfoy felt like he was learning nothing for the past few days. Of course he had successfully seceded from Granger's group, but for some reason he felt like he was a selfish prick. As he thought he would get nowhere in life, he finally understood that getting a decent education could actually get him out of the house. If he didn't get good grades, he would get a good example of horror for the rest of his life.

The past days, Draco would only take a peek at Granger, who would always be sitting up straight in her chair, with her eyes glued to the front of the class. Even if he wasn't looking at her, he knew after any question, her voice would be the first to answer it. Granger was different. She wasn't any know-it-all. She was a Mudblood, and adding to that, she didn't care what other people said about her. He wanted to make her cry, but he couldn't. She only made herself cry in situations that he didn't know about.

After the two classes he had with her, he would see her meet up with the bloody Ravenclaw, and they would exchange smiles, and stories. He would just glance at Hawthorne, who would gladly return the favor, but he would glare at him like he was a snake.

A week was over, and Draco wondered how much Granger had done on the project without him. She probably got three times as many things done without him, since she was Know-it-all Granger. She didn't have to deal with fights, and his actual presence.

Draco had thought about it over and over again, and it felt like rubbing a cheese grater on his forehead. He finally made a decision.

He was going to be project partners again with Granger.

Draco inferred that Granger would be in the library this night, and he thought stating it to her without actually aggravating her would be a decent way to go. 30 minutes before 9, he exited out of his room, and strode down the isolated hallway to the lighted room on the corner. Draco stood at the doorway, and there, he saw, was Granger. She was seated by the glowing fire, and her back was faced toward the doorway where Draco stood, and she had not heard him come in. She was reading a book that was far to large for her to hold in her hands, and her curls were tucked behind her ear while she read.

Draco walked up behind her.

"Granger."

Hermione gasped in surprise and turned as she almost fell off her chair. She gaped up at Malfoy, who was scowling at her as he took the seat opposite her. "Malfoy… what are you doing here?" she asked.

Malfoy sighed, as he watched as the glow of the fire colored her perplexed face. "I'm going to be your project partner again," he said.

Hermione felt like she heard him wrong. She blinked, and looked straight into his mercury eyes. The fire lighted up his pale features as he looked plainly at her. "What?"

Malfoy turned his head to the fire. "You heard me, Granger."

Hermione tucked a curl behind her ear. "You want to be my partner again? _You _decided?" she probed in skepticism.

Draco faced Hermione again. His eyes looked hurt, and his face looked unemotional. "Yes," he silently spat.

Hermione looked down at her book. Malfoy had actually wanted to be her partner again. Malfoy. Not McGonagall, nor Snape, nobody else but Malfoy decided to be her partner.

"I just don't want to get a bloody bad grade on my last year at this school," Malfoy said harshly.

Hermione just eyed him in rarity. He looked hurt, and betrayed. He didn't act like it, but his ice eyes were not sharp as they usually were, and his actions were a wee bit less harsh.

Hermione sighed as she continued to read her book. "I've finished most of the potions," she said as she still read her book. "I've made 2 new ones, and they have been successful, on me so far. They are pretty much finished."

Draco just stared at the fire, watching the golden and red flames flick against each other. "What did you make?"

Hermione looked up, astonished how calm he was being. "I made a body energy replenishing potion, and a deep wound healing medicine," she informed softly.

"How do you know they work?" he asked as he still watched the fire.

"I tried the first one when I was really tired, and I tried the other one on my arm where I cut myself," she said, facing down at the book.

Malfoy swapped his eyes to Hermione who had her eyes glued on the page again. The day she threw the knife at him was also the day she gave herself a huge gash. "Your arm," he heard himself say. "Did the potion heal it completely?" He felt like kicking himself.

Hermione shrugged and turned the page. "It's alright."

Malfoy stood up and went by her side. "Let me see it," he ordered.

Hermione looked up, and her eyebrows knitted together. "Why?"

Malfoy felt really stupid all the sudden. "If you get injured and the teachers find out, they're obviously going to blame me and kick me out of this project permanently. I'm going to get a bad grade. Besides, I might need to use it on mine too."

Hermione sighed and shoved her grey sleeve up to her shoulder. Malfoy looked at her cream, vanilla skin that ran all over her arm. He tried to keep his eyes away from the flawlessness, but it was almost impossible.

Hermione glanced at her arm and pointed at the dark scar. "Here," she said. "Do you think it worked well?"

Malfoy saw the scar was almost gone, but it caused a great interruption on her perfect skin. Something made him raise his hand and he found himself tracing his fingers over the scar. Her peach skin was so warm, and soft under his fingers.

_What the hell am I doing?_

Hermione gave an interrogated look at Malfoy's deliberating face, and back to his fingers that were tracing her scar. She almost shivered at his touch, which was chilling, but ecstatic at the same time. She could of pulled away, despite the fact Draco Malfoy was touching her skin, but she didn't. She was almost stuck.

Malfoy's fingers stopped at the end of the scar when they both snapped back to reality. He snatched his hand away, backing up a few inches, his eyes wide. Hermione did the same, and she was relatively close to the fire.

He clenched his hand that was tracing her scar. He looked at his hand in disbelief, as pants escaped his mouth. Malfoy's ice eyes trailed up to Granger, who was gaping at him in disbelief as she clutched her arm.

_I just touched a Mudblood_.

_Bloody hell._

Hermione felt her arm tingle from the touch of Malfoy's chilling touch, and she shoved her sleeve down again_._

_What in Merlin's name was that, Hermione?_

"I guess it works," Malfoy quickly spat, looking away, and shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'll use it later."

Hermione nodded. "Alright."

Merlin knows what made Malfoy touch the scar on her arm. He didn't know if he was testing to see if the gash was all gone from the potion, or he just couldn't help himself. Her warm skin still made his nerves at the edge of his fingers jump.

Malfoy felt like rewinding and forgetting what had happened. "Bye Granger," he quietly murmured, as he exited the room, leaving Hermione looking after him.

Malfoy shoved open his door to his room, and slammed the door behind him, stalking to the bathroom. He washed his hands hastily, and splashed the refreshing water on his face.

He _needed_ to come into reality.

He _needed _to wake up.

His job was simple: Finish the stupid project, spy for the Dark Lord, and ignore everyone.

Malfoy gripped the sides of the sink and clenched his eyes shut until he was sure he was about to faint.

Spy, spy, spy. Clues, clues, clues.

Although it was just one thing, it was almost impossible.

Granger's soft skin was still tingling against his fingertips.

* * *

Hermione slowly walked along the halls, looking at her feet most of the time.

"Malfoy is unbelievable," Michael stated. "And he's your partner again?"

Hermione nodded as she looked forward. "It's fine. I don't think he's going to bother me that much anymore. It was his decision."

Michael looked at her as she kept strolling along, occasionally looking around the corner to make sure no student was wandering around. He felt that she was sad, and uncomfortable.

"I know about your friends, Hermione. Potter and Weasley."

Hermione stopped walking.

Michael walked in front of Hermione, and looked at her. "They aren't really hiding."

Hermione shook her head. "No."

He gave a sad smile and put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Hor-"

"Horcruxes," Hermione finished for him as she brought her head up to face Michael.

"I won't tell anyone," Michael assured her.

Hermione felt tears prick in her eyes. She looked away and continued walking as she tried to blink them away. Crying right now would be a stupid thing to do. She stayed strong and breathed in, walking toward the Head house. Hermione's arm prickled.

Malfoy's touch was still hovering against her skin.

* * *

A/N: SORRY THIS WAS SHORT! But hey, it's Spring Break! I have a whole week to write! I had to cut this off because it would be appropriate this way. But don't worry. The next chapter will be filled with Dramione goodness. I have it all plotted out and I can't wait for you guys to read! :)

I am so angry because one of my teachers didn't count an assignment that I worked 2 BLOODY HOURS on! (Other students don't put effort and take 10 minutes.) It was a writing assignment, and I even remember showing it to her and explaining what some of it means! She took it, and put it on her desk. And now, she posted it as missing and it was like 2 months ago! I didn't even see it! I was never absent that month, and it just makes me angry! The quarter just ended, and if she can't fix it, it's not my fault because she's the one who lost it!

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and please review, and like! I love hearing what you guys think! Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize.

Thank you for supporting me! :)

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo Ice Mon


	8. Practice

**Q A/N:** Hey everyone! Quick quick thing to say, Michael knew about what Harry and Ron are doing because he is Head Boy, and McGonagall told him. Plus, he's not in Slytherin so he couldn't tell the Voldemort. Ok, I'm sorry I didn't mention that earlier, but I hope it's clear now! :( Sorry I just have one of those days when I can't concentrate! Anyhoo, please enjoy the chapter! :)

**Disclaimer**: Roses are red, Violets are blue, J.K. Rowling is epic, and owns the H.P Series too. Very cheesy, but I had to make a fun way of saying I don't own the Harry Potter series.

* * *

Chapter 7: Practice

"_You've done well, Draco."_

"_Thank you, master."_

_Voldemort smiled at him for the first time in months. He stood up, walking around the room to the Death Eaters. "Look here, everyone!" he pointed his long nail at the middle of the floor. "Look at this example of what is contaminating our world!"_

_The Death Eaters groaned in disgust and Bellatrix sounded like she was choking on an apple._

"_Ewww!" screeched Bellatrix in disgust. "It lives!" The person started moving on the floor._

_Malfoy trailed his eyes down to the floor where he saw, sprawled on the floor like a doll, Granger. He clenched his fists by his sides, as he kept his mercury eyes on her._

_She had tears in her eyes and her mouth was clamping onto a dirty rag that tied behind her head. She looked at Draco with desperate eyes that were also filled with anger, and hurt, like she was betrayed. Dark dirt spotted her face with opaque stains, and her chocolate hair was tousled wildly._

_Voldemort kicked her back. "Get off the floor you Mudblood scum!" he shouted._

_Hermione didn't move and stayed put, lying on the floor. Narcissa grabbed Draco's shoulder and pulled him back._

"_Get up!" he screeched in her ear._

_Hermione still didn't move._

_Voldemort scowled and glanced at Greyback. He sauntered over to Hermione and grabbed a fistful of hair and dragged her to Voldemort's throne. He kept hold of her hair, and took out his knife. He cut the rag in her mouth, and it plummeted to the floor._

_Voldemort leaned over when his face was right in front of hers._

"_Tell me where Harry Potter is," he hissed._

_Hermione just spat at his feet, and Voldemort exclaimed in disgust. He wiped his feet on her clothes, and struck her across the cheek. Hermione gasped in shock as she brought her face back to face Voldemort. Greyback brought the knife up to her neck._

_Draco felt himself cringe, and he tried to look away._

"_Answer me candidly, Mudblood, or else we will see exactly how filthy your blood is," he spat in her face._

_Greyback brought the blade closer to her throat as he pulled her hair back._

_Hermione didn't answer and Voldemort looked back up at Greyback. "Very well," he hissed. He stood up and Greyback dragged Hermione to the middle of the room, and dropped his grasp._

_Draco's eyes widened, as he knew what he was going to do._

_Voldemort took out his wand. "This spell was previously used on Draco." He shoved her face toward him with his foot. "It will be twice as painful this time though, Mudblood." He kicked her face, making her cry out again._

_Draco felt his body go still. Hermione turned her face to Draco, as tears started forming in her eyes again._

"_Frusta!" Voldemort yelled as he whipped his wand._

_Draco saw pain strike Hermione's features as she cried out in pain. The whips constantly continued, and Voldemort whipped his wand every second, never giving her a break._

_Her screams continued, and the sound ripped Draco's chest apart, and he felt the strikes too._

_A puddle of blood formed around Hermione, and she continued screaming._

"_All your fault!" she screamed at Malfoy. "All your fault, Draco Malfoy!"_

_My fault, my fault, my fault, my fault!_

Draco shot up in bed panting with sweat on his forehead. The misty vision of Granger drowning in her own blood faded away, leaving Draco shivering, and inhaling gulps of air as his chest heaved up and down. Although he remembered some visions of the nightmare in his head, the parts he vividly tried to flood back into his memory kept washing away like water.

My fault…my fault… my fault….

Malfoy swung his legs over, and rested his elbows on his knees as he gaped at the opaque floor. He ran his fingers through his hair, and massaged the back of his neck.

Merlin, he needed to forget everything from that nightmare.

He wished that he could wipe them away like his shower cleansed him. Like warm water rushing down a waterfall.

But, _hell,_ it was not that easy.

He took a bite at the Great Hall, expecting to see Granger, but he did not see her. Something about her presence not in Draco's vision after the nightmare made his gut twist back and forth. Hawthorne was there, and that made him edgy to thinking that something happened to Granger.

_God, it was just a dream! Shut up about it!_

The Ravenclaw even looked marginally uneasy. Hawthorne was basically her bodyguard. Draco knew being slightly concerned of Granger's whereabouts was a stupid thing to do considering they were enemies, but if she died or got injured badly, all the blame would be on him. Why? Because he was a servant of the Dark Lord, and he is the reason that Dumbledore is dead. Snape would have to bail him out of all the blame.

When the large bronze bell tolled, echoing around the school to alert everyone to go to his or her class, Malfoy stalked over to McGonagall's room, and looked in the room.

Granger was there.

Draco eyed her, and turned to his desk two rows from her. Hermione seemed to be finishing a test.

McGonagall appeared, walking through the aisles making sure every student was here. "Okay," she said in her shrill voice. She approached the front of her desk and turned around to the students. "Today we won't be doing any research, but we will practice dueling."

Some students in the class gave a quiet cry of triumph that they didn't have to stick their face in a book.

McGonagall raised her hands with a serious look on her face. "Now, now, before we get to excited about this, you must remember this is the foundation for making your own spells." She peered at all the nodding students through her tiny-framed spectacles. "I suppose some of you have turned in your potions that you made." She scanned over the group of students, which had blank looks on their faces. Hermione was the only one who nodded. "No one else except Ms. Granger?" she asked almost in disbelief.

Hermione turned her head at all the students, and then back to the teacher. She heard some Slytherin murmur, "Know-it-all Mudblood." Some others snickered. Draco just sat there, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

"You best watch your mouth, Ms. Parkinson. 10 points off Slytherin!" she shrilled.

Pansy gave her a nasty look, and pursed her lips insolently at the teacher.

McGonagall looked over the room. "Now I hope you all realize how important this project is. Any student who fails to even try to make a potion will have detention with me for 2 hours."

The students paid their attention to the cracks in the wall, and the texture of the stone floor.

"Alright. So get with a partner outside, and we will get started," McGonagall ordered as she started to shuffle outside.

Hermione sighed and stood up, and blurred in with the rest of the students. They all reached outside, and Hermione shivered from the sudden breeze of chilliness. She could see her warm breath swim in the air like a ghost. The students spread out, looking for partners.

"Now," McGonagall said to the students. "Get with a partner."

The students were clamoring, looking for a partner to be with. Hermione randomly paired up with a girl named Violet. She was a quiet girl, who had blonde hair and pale skin. Her eyes were sky blue, and she was very pretty in Hermione's opinion. She was in Ravenclaw, and Hermione thought it was a coincidence that Violet's name was deeply related to Ravenclaw.

"Alright now, settle down," The old professor fussed, seeing that everyone had a partner. "Okay, do not use any spell that could hurt the other person severely, and _do not_ use any of the Unforgivable Curses, or else you _will_ be expelled. Don't not go any farther than this tree here." She shuffled over to a tree and gestured toward it.

The partners murmured to each other, lining up across each other to practice their dueling spells. He had been rationally required to be pairs with Pansy. He was a good friend with her, although they dated last year, but he had just wanted to be friends. He didn't feel like she was the right person. She was too pushy, snobby, and clingy. Pansy would literally hold on to his shoulder for minutes, and Draco would get bruises on his skin.

The students started yelling out spells, and whooshes were filling the air from the sound of the practicing.

Draco pulled out his wand and backed up. "Go, Pansy."

She pointed her wand at him with a petrified look on her face. Her hand shook as she struggled to keep it straight. She sighed and lowered her wand. "I can't," she whined.

Draco sighed, and massaged his forehead. "Pansy, just do it. I will be able to defend it."

"I don't want to hurt you Draco…" She pointed her wand at him again. "_Expelliarmus_!" she shouted.

Draco defended the weak spell easily, and glanced up at Pansy in dissatisfaction. She smiled like she had accomplished the hardest thing in the world.

"Hermione, I can't do this," Violet sighed looking at her wand. "Every time I try…"

Hermione smiled sadly at the girl and walked over to her. "You're fine, Violet. You just need to improve your posture a little better." Hermione made her straighten her back, and keep her arm straight and steady. "Now, when you say_Expelliarmus_, grip the wand tight, and keep your arm steady. Try it on me."

Violet's eyebrows turned concerned. "N-no. I can't Hermione. I'm going to hurt you…" she stammered.

Hermione smiled. "Don't worry, Violet. This will be good practice on me anyway." She backed up 5 feet away.

Violet's arm shook, and she pressed her lips together, scared of what might happen. "_Expelliarmus!_" she exclaimed.

Hermione saw a fast flash a white light engulf her eyes, and a force that felt like an elephant struck her chest as she felt herself flying. Her head pounded on the cold ground, and her breath was taken away.

Hermione sat up, her eyes as wide as the moon. She stared at the girl who was shaking in fright as she was trying to mouth, "Sorry."

Hermione beamed. "You did it, Violet!" she exclaimed in triumph.

Violet looked at her wand. "I- I did, I guess, yeah," she stammered, trying to smile. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

Hermione got up and wiped off her skirt. "Not at all," Hermione grinned at the unobtrusive girl. She felt proud that she had helped another student.

The class continued for another 30 minutes, and Hermione noticed how Violet had increased in such a small amount of time. She was professionally dueling with her now, and Violet had opened up her personality, like a little bud transforming into an enormous flower.

"Alright now class!" shrilled McGonagall's voice. "Class is over! Head over to the room and gather your things. Your homework tonight is to practice with your real partners and make the potions if most of you haven't already. Go!" She shooed them off with her hands.

Hermione watched as everyone left. She had to tell the professor that Malfoy had joined her group again.

"Hermione," a tiny voice said behind her.

Hermione whipped around seeing Violet. She had her head down, a wee bit of a curve of a smile on her pink lips, and her blonde waves cascading down her back. "Thank you," she said.

Hermione grinned and nodded once. "It was fun. I'm glad you learned a lot more. I think you're better than me now." She laughed a little.

Violet giggled. "No. You still are a better witch than I'll ever be." She gave a quick smile and shuffled to the inside doors.

Hermione smiled after her and turned to McGonagall.

The old witch peered at Violet. "I see you've helped another student, Ms. Granger."

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "No. She was fine all along. She just needed to improve her posture. That's all," she alleged.

"Well, I'm still proud of you, Ms. Granger."

Hermione looked down, and then back up to McGonagall. She but her lip in provision for McGonagall's reaction. "Professor, Draco Malfoy decided to be my partner in the project again."

McGonagall's smile gradually disappeared to an empty face. "Well," she started looking to the side. "I guess he wants to get a good grade. If he is any bother to you at all, just let me know and I'll sort things out." She nodded.

Hermione nodded back, and walked down the grass to enter the school.

_I don't think he'll be that much of a bother…_

_Hopefully_

* * *

Draco strode up to the Head's dorm and exhaled. If that bloody Ravenclaw was going to interrupt him again, he was asking for a blow in the head. He knocked on the door hastily and stood back, eying the king on the portrait.

"If you want to go in, just ask me and I'll deliver the message to the Head's, instead of rudely slamming on my door," the king sniffed at him, touching his mustache.

"Bugger off," he muttered on his breath.

"Wha-"

The portrait opened, and Draco saw Granger's disordered face.

"Malfoy," she said almost startled.

"Are we going to practice outside?" he spat petulantly.

"Oh, right. Let me get my wand," Hermione said unnervingly. She shuffled in the room and snatched her wand from the couch. He saw her grab something else, which looked like an ointment, but he didn't know what it was. She looked at Malfoy and then walked out of the portrait as it closed by itself. Draco kept his eyes on the floor, only seeing his own shoes.

They both walked down the staircase and strode through the bridge zone to go outside. The sky was a musky grey-blue color, and the sun was almost down. The birds were almost done with their singing, which almost hushed the Hogwarts atmosphere. Hermione peeked around at the setting that they were in. The dark evergreen trees crowded around them, and it felt almost like a mystery to Hermione. A dark, cold, story that wasn't told.

"It think this is good," she said as she peered around again.

She felt Malfoy whisk past her, and position himself 10 feet away from her. He took out his wand. "Don't worry. I'm going to go easy on you, Granger." He taunted.

Hermione scoffed. "Like you are ever nice to me, Malfoy."

Malfoy pointed his wand at her with his steady arm. "_Expelliarmus_!" he yelled. The light flashed out of his wand and Hermione took position and defended it. She slightly cringed at how strong his spells were.

"_Expelliarmus_!" she countered back, a jet of white exploding out of her wand. Malfoy flicked his wand as it approached him. He smirked.

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Enervate_!"

The spells deflected off each other with a flash.

"_Stupefy_!" he yelled. Hermione dodged the spell, and pointed her wand at him again.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Stupefy!"_

The two spells mashed together, making Hermione's arm shake. Malfoy clenched his jaw, and kept his aim forward. The cluster of energy in the middle moved toward Draco, and Hermione whipped her wand, making Malfoy lose grip on his. The wand flew out of his hand and toppled on the floor. The energy from their wands disappeared like a gust of wind, and everything was quiet again.

Hermione looked at the heated Malfoy, who also looked at her in revelation. She crossed her hands over her chest. "I told you not to go easy on me, Malfoy," she sneered.

He licked his teeth and smirked at her. "Fine. If you think you can beat me, this time, I'm not going to go easy on you." He snatched his wand from the ground and pointed it at her.

Hermione positioned herself, ready for any spell that was going to hit her.

"_Stupefy_!"

The two teens disarmed, and attacked each other with flashes filling the area. They both dodged, rolled, attacked, defended, and they didn't stop for 5 minutes. The duel lasted long, and Draco felt sweat dispersing from his body. His chest heaved with pants to try and defeat the Gryffindor across from him. Hermione's arms felt like a cluttered doll, but she still kept strong and kept attacking. His blows were extremely strong, and every time he attacked, her arm felt like it was swelling.

Hermione stood up straight and pointed her wand directly at his hand. "_Expelliarmus_!" she shouted. Malfoy had not seen how fast she had used the spell, and he just gaped at his hand with wide eyes.

The strike of light dispersed from her wand, and headed toward Draco's wand. As if she was in slow motion, the light hit the wand and Draco felt his arm fly back, and he lost grip on his wand. The wand almost flew in Hermione's hands, but she mentally told herself that if she caught his wand, it would no longer be his. She dodged the wand, and everything but the _thud_ of the wand was heard in the woods. It was dark now, and Hermione trailed her honey eyes up to Malfoy, who had pants escaping his mouth, his face in disbelief.

_I just lost to Granger._

_Sodding hell._

Hermione did nothing, and just stood there, gaping at Malfoy. Despite the fact she had defeated Draco Malfoy in a wand duel when he was going his strongest, was almost riotous, but Hermione didn't laugh. She just had to accept the fact that she was better than him, not to brag.

Malfoy approached her with bold strides. "Consider yourself lucky, Granger," he expectorated as he picked up his wand off the floor.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows together as she watched him. "I thought you said that you weren't going to go easy on me," she replied.

"Yeah, but it was my arm. You gave me a bloody cut on my arm." He eyed her with his winter eyes.

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest. "Really, Malfoy? I gave you a slice, I had a gash. How obstinate can you be?"

Malfoy's chest felt squelched to the thought of when he was touching her skin. Her skin was so velvety and warm, like a supple blanket. It ran all over her arm as if she had been drenched with vanilla cream. He mentally slapped himself to snap out of his useless thoughts. She was a Mudblood. She is Hermione Granger. She is his worst enemy. But telling her that he had a bad arm wasn't really a lie. He hadn't been taking care of it, and it peeled out more, and looked more and more like Granger's gash everyday. He needed that medicine. But, it could wait.

Hermione suddenly wondered how Malfoy's gash was. Her eyes trailed to his right arm, and then back up to his eyes. "Malfoy let me check your cut. You said you needed it yesterday."

Malfoy backed up from the Gryffindor, feeling fretful about her authority. "No," he spat. "It's fine."

Hermione strode up to him. "Not if you said you needed it. Let me see it," she ordered.

"No, Granger."

"Malfoy-"

"NO!" he yelled at her.

But Hermione had already yanked his arm toward her studying face. He winced in the pain, and he tried to pull back, but Granger's nails just dug into his arm more.

Draco gritted his teeth together. "_Granger_, for God's sake-"

Hermione gripped his arm tighter and pulled up his sleeve. Draco watched as her earnest features turn into a horrified, indistinct look. Pants escaped her mouth, as they turned into a cloud of white in the bitter night. He swapped his eyes to his wound, which looked a lot worse than he expected. The slit had opened up more from the failure of cleansing it; the flesh around it had been bloodied, and peeled from the rubbing of his sleeve on it. It was colored with an opaque red tint, and pink swollen flesh surrounded it like a shadow.

"Malfoy," Hermione whispered, feeling petrified. "You haven't taken care of it at all." She traced her finger around it to get a better look, being careful not to touch it.

Malfoy's wound tingled from her nail lightly tracing its surroundings. "I think I've figured that out all by myself, thanks," he alleged harshly.

Her honey orbs met up with his ice ones. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could have healed it faster."

Draco tried yanking his arm away again. "Granger. Stop acting like my mother. I was going to heal it today anyway," he said harshly.

"Malfoy, can I please try the medicine on you?" she queried hastily.

"No, as I said, I can take care of myself," he quarreled with anger striking his voice.

"Malfoy, listen-"

"Granger, sod off already. I said no!" he roared in her face. His gash stung from his augmentation.

"I need to test the medicine to make sure it works on other people too!" she hollered, feeling wrath prick in her throat.

Malfoy shut his mouth, and his arm relaxed. His aggravation with everything that was going on now was killing him, and he felt like hurting someone. He thought letting his anger out on people would be a good, casual way to get rid of his pain, but it only made him feel more idiotic throughout his life.

"Sit down, Malfoy." Hermione let go of his arm, and Draco felt rather cold without it. He sat crisscrossed on the ground, and Hermione sat on her knees in front of him. The light hung on the bridge spread a beam bright enough for Hermione to see his wound. She dug in her pocket to take out the little ointment. It was a rather flat container with a white cap on top. Malfoy watched suspiciously as Granger took off the white cap. Hermione gently grabbed his arm as she scooted forward.

Malfoy inspected as Granger dabbed her finger in the ointment to apply it on his wound.

Hermione licked her lips and dabbed the medicine lightly on the wound. Malfoy hissed to the slight inconvenience of the medicine touching his gash, but the pain sizzled away. He felt Granger's warm skin on his again, and he felt his gut twist to the difference of temperature of their skin. Malfoy felt her hot breath mingle across his pale skin, and it made his arm's nerves shiver. Hermione softly rubbed the last the medicine on the gash, and placed her hand down. Her hazel orbs still studied the wound, insuring that it was covered.

"Alright." Hermione's warm eyes trailed back up to his mercury eyes that studied her intensively. "Do you feel anything abnormal?"

Malfoy just shoved his sleeve down and stood up. "Why did you heal me?" he asked suddenly.

Hermione shrugged. "It's nothing, Malfoy. Just forget it." she stood up and started walking.

Draco snatched her arm and spun her around. The familiar brisk touch from Malfoy made her arm shiver. "No, it not just typical, Granger. We are enemies, and you healed my arm," he said starkly as he studied her face.

Hermione studied his mercury eyes that made him so mysterious. They almost swirled with contrasts of Payne's grey, and they changed according to his mood. She snatched her eyes away.

"Malfoy, I had to heal you because it was my fault for hurting you in the first place. Let go." She tried to shrug his grip off.

Draco just intensified his grip and stared into her brown eyes. "I could have did it myself," he spat.

"Well, evidently, you didn't so I had to do it. Let _go _of me Malfoy." She tried to pull her arm away again.

"You don't care about me," he hissed.

Hermione shut her mouth, and just gaped at his lost eyes. She stopped struggling and just stood there, like an old statue. "I could care less about your whereabouts, Malfoy, but I wouldn't wish death on you."

He felt something in his stomach jump. "I wasn't going to die from this, Granger."

"But still," she said softly.

The atmosphere hushed from the night, and nothing was heard except for the breaths of the two teens. Malfoy felt something in his chest grow. He had never felt it before. It was like a fire toasting inside him and trying to make its way out. Malfoy almost felt it painful, but it was almost rather mild after a while.

Hermione looked at the arm he was still holding on to. "Malfoy… please… let go," she marginally implored at the blonde.

Malfoy released his grasp and gaped at Granger, almost like he was studying her. She gathered her stuff and sighed, looking back at Malfoy with her honey eyes. "Goodnight, Malfoy." She then slowly ambled toward the bridge, leaving Draco lost in his thoughts.

"_I could care less about your whereabouts, Malfoy, but I wouldn't wish death on you."_

Did that mean she didn't want him to die? Even if she had a chance to witness it? Draco wanted her to die at some points, and he told himself he would enjoy it. But her being a Mudblood was the main reason he didn't like her. He even found it quite enjoyable to make her mad. He hated her because she was a Mudblood, and he was a Pureblood. She was in Gryffindor, and he was in Slytherin. But if she happened to be a Pureblood, would he hate her?

Draco tried to give himself an answer, but his mind kept blocking the true question.

He came here to finish his last year, not to become friends with his enemy for a project that he completely opposes. He wanted to fight, but at the same time, he wanted to defend his school. Draco rubbed his eyes with his palms and dug his nails into his scalp with aggravation.

_Frustration, and confusion._

Those were the two words that explained his thoughts right now. Happiness, joy, and hilarious would not even be close to enter his soul.

Just _sodding_ pain.

But he almost thought every time Granger was near him, he forgot all about pain, and he felt like his own self again. She made him feel like nothing bad ever happened to him, although she was a Muggle. She reminded him of the days when they always fought, and he wasn't in deep grieving of his father in Azkaban, or telling himself that he was a horrible human being, and it was all his fault.

Granger made him feel like himself.

* * *

Hermione woke up earlier than any student would of at 5 am. The constant tapping on her tinted window that amplified rapidly interrupted her sleep. Hermione rubbed her tired eyes, and looked toward the window where she saw a deformed object moving outside her window. Hermione groaned. Why did an owl have to come to her window at blazing 5 in the m-

An owl?

Harry and Ron.

The witch felt a pop of energy from the chance and hopped out of her bed, being careful not to slip on the glossy wooden floor. She almost crashed into the window panel, but she steadied herself and hastily shoved the window open. A sudden gust of icy air kissed Hermione's face, but she didn't care. She just wanted to read the letter. The diminutive owl fluttered his baby wings, and shoved his beak toward Hermione's hand. It poked her numb hands from the morning, and she just snatched the letter from its tiny beak.

"Give it here, Pigwidgeon," she fussed with a restless tone. The bird squawked in reply.

Hermione untied the rusty cloth tying around the note. She opened the scroll, which was blank, as it was private.

"_Accio_ wand," she whispered so Michael wouldn't wake up from the other room. She pointed her wand at the tip of the paper and murmured a spell. Black stains gradually made their way on the parchment.

_Dear Hermione,_

_You are absolutely brilliant! But, unfortunately, we don't have it now as you know, so Ron and I are going to find it. It might be in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault, but it could be anywhere. We are close to finding the necklace Horcrux, and I believe we are just a few steps behind it. I'm sorry we haven't replied. We have been so out of shape with you not here. We are still okay right now, but we miss you so much. Don't worry about us, and we will write back as much as we can._

_H. & R._

Hermione smiled at the letter. Although it wasn't much, it told almost everything that they were doing. She was most content to see them say they were okay. She couldn't bear to think what would happen if they were hurt. She folded the letter and put it on her desk gently. Although they had been unquestionably lost without her, she knew they were robust wizards that could never be defeated. Hermione was basically their nurse that could fix, and heal anything. But, she had to accept the fact that they were respectable without her, and they would survive.

The brown haired witch felt the need to socialize them as much as she could, but knowing it would probably distract them from work, she told herself to write once or twice a week. No more.

Hermione let the bird in her room, and shut the window, making the warmth flood the entire room again. She flicked her wand, and a cage appeared, big enough for the petite bird to fit in. The bird hopped into the cage happily, and started nuzzling his feathers as he cleaned himself.

Hermione collapsed in her bed, snuggling under the warm sheets that she had left behind. She let her eyelids droop, and she tried to imagine a peaceful darkness engulf her. For minutes she expected to fall asleep, but she simply just tossed and turned on her sheets, until she found that she could not relax. She kept staring at the wall with open eyes, and she thought back to what Malfoy had austerely said to her.

_Damn it, Granger, do you think I had a choice?! I was bloody forced to!_

Hermione had stated that he was the reason that Dumbledore was dead. She hadn't believed him, but for some reason, now, she felt a little piece in her that wanted to believe him. In those lost eyes of his, she could see a fragment of hurt, swirling in those mysterious orbs of obscurity. It hit her every time she caught it, and she almost felt bad for Malfoy. He probably wasn't a Death Eater anymore, because he had separated from Voldemort,

But something, deep, deep inside her made her want to believe Malfoy. She thought he was just lost. Hermione disliked him, but didn't hate him. He was unquestionably very competitive, clever at times, and a real pain in the arse, but if she knew he was forced,

She was going to forgive him.

* * *

A/N: Yaay! Okay so, sorry this was a pretty long wait, but, weirdly enough, I'm actually quite busy during this break. I'm freaking out now, because… I CAN'T SLEEP IN! It's like a curse! I wake up every morning at 6 am with an alarm, during school days, and then during break, I'm naturally waking up before 9, which is scaring me a little. So I get really sleepy earlier and I can't write in the morning. But, anyhoo, I'll just drink a Mocha or something to freshen my senses! :)

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and the next one will be even better. I can't wait! Please R&R if you liked! I love hearing what you guys think! Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize. (I have to say it, lol)

Hugs and Kisses xo- Ice Monsta


	9. Music

Skip for story…

A/N: OMG OMG OMG. I don't know how many times I have to day this: I'M SO SO SO SO SORRY! I have had so many obstacles in my path of writing, and I feel horrible. :( I feel like a terrible writer.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. :)

* * *

Chapter 8: Music

Draco had persistently filled his days with his worries, which no one should ever do, but he couldn't control it. He wanted to help the Dark Lord in some way, but he also wanted to help the school. If the bloody teachers didn't think about doing the project in the first place, he could of easily destroyed the school by now. Instead of spying, Draco had to meet up with Granger, or else things would be suspicious. His other conflict was with himself. One part of him told him to fight _for_ the school, and the other part wanted to fight _against _the school. His life felt like he was being pulled by a crank; Voldemort was luring him in and the school was ensnaring him in.

Draco finally came up with an idea.

Bring the angel to the Dark Lord.

It would still regain the Dark Lord's trust on him, but it would also be useless to him.

Draco strode through the halls after his last class. It was around 2 pm, and he felt it was an impeccable time to go since no one would look for him. The clouds were pouring down rain again, and Draco hid in the shadows as some students hustled by, covering their hair with their books. He made his way toward the naked wall, and closed his eyes.

_Room of Requirement…open up…where everything is hidden… _

Draco opened up his ice eyes to see that the wall had formed an opening. He strode in, and searched for the angel where he had hidden it. Inside the piano. He lifted up the white object, studying it with his ice eyes. It was so precious to him. But he thought it would be so nice, it would be useless to the Dark Lord. He closed his eyes, imagining the dark, echoed Malfoy Manor. His body instantly felt twisted, and a gust of wind whizzed by his ear. A cracking sound ricocheted around the cold room, and he was at home.

A bunch of chattering was stopped as a group of Death Eaters looked at Draco with surprise.

"Where is the Dark Lord?" he asked coldly at the old men.

"He's in there," murmured the old Death Eaters voice. He pointed his shaking finger at the black door across the room. Draco grasped the angel tightly and stalked toward the door.

He raised his hand to knock, but the door already flew open hastily. Draco peered up, and there was Voldemort, sitting at his throne. "Draco," he hissed.

Draco walked in cautiously, and approached the dark man. "My Lord, I have brought you an item that probably can help us help the school suffer. He handed him the glowing box. Voldemort looked at it with a deathly glare, and took it from him.

Voldemort turned the white box cautiously, and saw the angel at the front. Her face turned ghostly, and her features carved into fear.

_He is the night,_

_The shivering ice,_

_His eyes of lie,_

_We pay the price._

Lauren had a croaking voice, which was no longer beautiful like before. She screamed and planted her hands on her cheeks, turning away.

Voldemort looked at the object with disgust, and almost betrayal. He threw the box in the air with the screaming angel, and it landed outside of the room. He shot up from his seat and faced Draco. He struck him across the cheek, and Draco's head flung to the side.

"This was not meant to be any help to me, Draco. Have some common sense!" he spat carelessly at the blonde.

Malfoy felt his cheek throbbing, and he nodded, keeping his head down. "I apologize, master."

_Why?_

"You must discard that object, Draco. You must not mention to anyone about it, you must not show it to anyone. It is a poetic angel that answers to questions about me. It will tell secrets about me!" he hissed austerely. The atmosphere decreased around him. "You shall not let me down, Draco."

Draco nodded, and quickly strode out of the room, picking up the angel on the way. It had started pouring outside, and Draco felt the room drop many degrees. He hugged the object that was silently crying, and kept it close to his chest.

No, he was not going to discard it. It was his only friend. But another reason is that he did want to find secrets about Voldemort, so he kept it to himself. What if the Dark Lord found out?

Bollocks.

All hell would break loose.

He put the object under his jacket, and Apparated out of the room.

Draco felt the whizzing again, but this time, bits of water sprinkled on his face. He landed on the ground, as the cold water started drenching him miserably. He ran inside, and held out his arms from the rain. His hair was drenched, and his suit was clothed with cold water. He flicked a spell at himself, and he got half dried. Thunder rumbled outside, and the sound of the rain sounded like beads hitting the floor.

Draco stalked through the hallways, hoping that Granger would be roaming about. He needed to tell her about the angel, although the Dark Lord forbid him so, but he thought Granger could solve anything in a split second. He hoped that she could solve this quickly. He observed through halls around him, as the thunder clapped outside, and the rain showered down like tears. A few students were wandering the halls, talking, but most of the students were in their dorms, staying away from the cold.

Draco lost hope when he reached the last hall near the Room of Requirement, but there he stopped. A girl was standing right in front of the wall, but it didn't open. Curly brown curls toppled down her shoulders, and that perfect school uniform. Granger. She ran her hand across the wall, knowing that there was a secret, but she didn't want to open it.

Hermione felt two cold hands grasp her wrists, and shove her, not hurtfully, against the wall. She almost cried out with the slight stabbing of the wall in her head, but the familiar brisk, stinging touch from a hand covered her mouth. She could almost taste his smell. Her chocolate orbs widened in shock, and they met up with the mercury ones. His hair was damp, and it was mused instead of dead flat. She tried moving, but he only held her there tighter.

"Shut up, and trust me Granger," he said almost smoothly.

Hermione couldn't trust him, but the tone of his voice, his ice eyes, and despite the fact she couldn't talk made her to. She nodded her head, and he looked at the wall and led her in. Malfoy insured that the wall was closed and let go of wrist and mouth. Hermione studied him with big, curious eyes.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

He swapped his eyes at her. "I think it would have been quite decent to shut you up for once when I'm trying to tell you something," he spat.

Hermione eyed him. "What did you need to tell me?"

Malfoy hesitated and reached into his jacket and pulled out the glowing object. "This."

Hermione studied the box with disquiet and curiosity. "What… what is that?" she catechized gently.

Malfoy shrugged. "I don't know. I found here in the Room of Requirement, and it sang me a poem about something." He noticed how close she was and he could smell something acutely addictive. It smelled like cinnamon apples and melted sugar.

Hermione bit her lip and tried to take it from him. "Let me see," she said gently.

Malfoy answered to her request and let go of the box.

The same beautiful angel started smiling at Hermione, and had her gorgeous charm on her, like nothing had happened at the manor.

_The clouds are cold,_

_The sky is grey,_

_The sound of the bold,_

_Have come to pray._

_The wind is alone,_

_The trees did sway,_

_The sound of the bold,_

_Have come to pray._

_Hmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm_

_He is the night,_

_The shivering ice,_

_His eyes of lie,_

_We pay the price._

_Do not fear my little children, _

_Those that want to find,_

_Call for me, for I am Lauren,_

_And freedom will untwine._

Hermione almost beamed at the angel. "I know what this is." She faced a concerning Draco. "It's a Poet Angel!" she almost sounded excited.

Draco neared her and looked at the angel inside the box. "What is that?"

Hermione gaped up at Malfoy. "They are angels that sing poems-"

"I think I found that out myself weirdly enough-"

"No, Malfoy. They are angels made inside an object like this. They sing stories, or clues in poetic form. If we want the answers, we have to say them back like a poem. For example:"

_My dear angel,_

_Sing to me,_

_For unpredictable,_

_I may be._

Draco watched her as she recited the poem with emotion to the angel. The angel's features turned happy again, and started singing the warrior hum to Draco and Hermione.

_You are in need,_

_Of some clues,_

_That could come need,_

_When times are blue._

_Five you seek,_

_They are hiding,_

_In the deep,_

_They'll be waiting._

_With each slice,_

_The cold will die,_

_That's my advice,_

_For now I say bye._

The angel turned and her glowing face disappeared like mist, and the object dimmed its light like a candle. Draco looked at it in inquisitiveness.

"What happened?" he asked querulously, feeling cautious if Granger had affected the angel in some way.

Hermione handed him the box and sighed. "The Poet Angel only sings 2 times per day. So, she has to rest." She looked around and walked near the piano, almost in surprise.

Draco gaped at the box and put it back in his jacket. "Vo-" he stopped himself. "I had someone tell me that the angel talks about the Dark Lord."

Hermione didn't answer, and there was simple quietness.

Draco swapped around in provocation. "Did you hear-"

He saw Granger sitting at the rusty piano that Draco had hidden the angel in. She flattened her skirt and put her fingers up to the keys. Draco shut his mouth and furrowed his eyebrows at the Gryffindor.

Hermione touched a key, which sounded partly broken. She started playing a major chord. Then another. The off tune keys sounded fixed when Granger played the immense chords. Then, she started playing other chords along with it. Malfoy found himself moving toward the piano and watching her fingers intensively as she played the chords on the rusty piano. He never knew that Granger could play the piano. He never knew she could play so well. The sound was almost beautiful.

Draco watched as she dipped her hands into the keys, almost like her hands were swans. The sound filled the empty room with an angelic tone, and the despondent song made Draco's heart twitch in the mood. The rain pattering outside the window responded to the song almost, and it made the room flow with notes.

Something about watching Granger play the piano with such grace and emotion, made him think about all those years back then when he would tease her for herself. The ugly, brown haired, bucked toothed Gryffindor was always such an annoying prat, but Malfoy felt different for her this time. This time when she was playing the piano so beautifully it made Draco almost want to listen all day long.

Hermione emotionally hit the last notes like a gentle slope, and she leisurely, and intriguingly placed her hands back on her lap.

"Gymnopedie No. 3. I learned it during the summer," Hermione said softly. She looked at her hands as the music subsided.

Malfoy just gaped down at her with his mercury eyes. Never had he known that someone he could hate this much, could play something so beautiful. It was as if Granger had a totally different side to her.

"Oh…" was all he could murmur. He looked at her brown hair that caressed down her back, and studied the specks of gold lighting in them. The darkness of the room made everything so still, and so quiet that even the rain from outside seemed to be like the light. Malfoy shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling insecure in the room from the opaque mood.

Hermione swapped her honey eyes to the Draco as she studied his uncanny state. She sighed and stood up from the creaky bench and made her way toward the door.

"I'll see you around Malfoy," she said as she whisked past him.

"Wait." Draco snatched her arm, holding her there with his grip. "You aren't going anywhere until you promise to not tell anyone about the angel." His tone hissed harshly.

Hermione gaped at him with curious eyes. "Why is it that important to you?" she asked. Hermione felt his grasp send chills up her arm.

Malfoy closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. "It just is, okay? Don't tell _anyone_," he hissed. He didn't know why he couldn't just tell Granger that the angel was his only friend; it would make him look like a weak little girl.

Hermione shrugged harshly out of his enquiring grasp and backed up, still looking at him with brown eyes. "Well I mine as well leave if there is not a civilized explanation to this."

Malfoy's lips curled and he studied Granger's waiting figure and sighed. "Granger. You know that I don't work for You-Know-Who, right?" he asked, trying to sound as honest as possible although it wasn't true.

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes, I know. I heard McGonagall talking about it."

Malfoy brought his fingers to his temple and massaged his head. "I know that everyone hates me, for something I did not want to do. I really didn't want to go to Hogwarts this year, since I would look like a stranger, and a betrayer. Since all that happened, I feel… alone."

Hermione almost felt as if her heart stopped beating. The word coming from Draco Malfoy wasn't like anything she could imagine. Hermione studied his face for any trickery, but all she could make out was his indignant face. His eyes that swirled like mercury liquid, and the dark contours of his face shadowed his pale features of a man told her that he was not lying.

He really was alone.

Hermione looked at him, with almost a look of shock on her face.

"I understand that you probably wont give a rat's arse about my issues, but I'm telling you that this is why I need the angel. I need her for company," Malfoy's frantic voice spat. "It could help me find out about the Dark Lord's whereabouts."

The atmosphere was so quiet and still, that Hermione could probably hear even that slightest drip of water from the rooftop. She had believed Malfoy for not purposely threatening Hogwarts since the day she thought about it, and she almost felt bad for him for his order.

Hermione approached Malfoy with unhurried steps and bit her lip, staring at the ground. She peered through her dark lashes and studied those hurt mercury eyes of downheartedness. He had something in him that wasn't expressed. He was hiding something. She knew it. Hermione breathed in hesitantly as she closed her eyes for a short time.

"Alright. I promise."

Malfoy's head slanted up and his eyes encountered her earnest chocolate ones. His chest felt constricted, as she had just promised to not say anything. He had never thought she would, considering they were nothing but wholesome enemies. But he felt differently about the situations between them, and it maddened him like a fly.

"Thank you," he muttered barley noticeably. He broke his eyes away from her and sauntered toward the piano.

Hermione gaped at him, and his tall, toned body. "I'm sorry, Malfoy."

Malfoy stopped tracing his pale fingers across the grimy surface and curved his head. "For what?"

"I should have believed you when you said you were forced to kill Dumbledore," she replied softly.

Malfoy felt something in his chest writhe, and it almost felt like someone had pricked him with a needle countless times. She believed him? Hermione Granger believes him? Malfoy let his fingers drop from the edge of the instrument. "I didn't need your view on my things, Granger. But that doesn't mean you have to forgive me for it." He turned around and studied Hermione's forgivable state.

Hermione looked at the now opaque box where the angel was and looked back at the blonde Slytherin. "I really should have believed you, Malfoy. I think you do deserve an apology," she silently alleged.

"Granger," he said almost impatiently. "Enough already. I don't need any of your tiny apologies. It's do-"

"I really do apologize Malfoy. Just stick with it," Hermione ordered as she looked at him seriously. She glanced at his disgruntled face and strode out of the room with her normal urgency.

Draco felt his insides fire up with anger, and frustration and he swapped to the wall and punched his fist against the cold surface and cursed. The rocks on the wall dug into his knuckles, and Draco felt the bitter pain feed into his skin.

"_Hell,_" he spat.

He had just made Granger promise him with something he lied about.

Considering they had been nothing but enemies in the last 6 years had a great impact on this. She gave him her word. And she apologized. Draco felt like his world was changing. He had this annoying urge that told him to help the school, and forget the Dark Lord. All he wanted was to leave the Dark Lord, and have nothing to do with Hogwarts. But this side of him... This side wanted to fight for the school. Granger was pulling him like a magnet toward the school. He tried to pull away, but by orders of the reckless project, he had to work with her.

But Granger was different. She didn't want to hex him when he appeared in the corner of her eye. She tried to work things out like a broken puzzle. Whilst Potter and that Weasley wanted to duel him with their Gryffindor soul, Granger always tried to avoid the fights, and took them by the shoulder, giving Malfoy a taunting look of death.

His hand slowly dragged down the rough surface of the wall, and he leaned his forehead further in the wall. The rain pattered more on the surface of the glass windows, and the room darkened its normal lighting. Thunder started clashing outside, and Draco somewhat felt that compare to the fights rumbling in his head.

* * *

Hermione tried to steady herself as her unknown eagerness to go to the library overcame her brain. The outside trails were still wet from the massive shower the day before, and Hermione reminded herself to watch her step before she slipped and fell like an idiot. She hustled quietly toward the inside of the school as she shivered and pulled her cloak closer around her body. The sky's grey tint was reflected among all the puddles sprawled across the ground, and one or two raindrops would occasionally fall from the grey clouds and land on the grass.

Hermione made her way through the smaller crowds of students making their ways to their dorms. All that ran through her head was to find information about making _spells_. This was officially the first time she and Malfoy would actually work together. Hermione felt extreme waves of anxiety run through her head like a hurricane, that she forgot where she had been walking this whole time. She stopped at a black door that clearly wasn't the library.

_Merlin._

She had taken the wrong hallway.

_Why do all hallways have to look so bloody alike?_

The witch groaned in frustration and turned around, hastily striding to the other hallway. Rain had already started falling from the sky, tumbling to the ground like beads. The past few months and weeks had been filled with so much ghastly weather, that Hermione was sure she had a huge book full of tally marks of the days with no sun.

Hermione pulled a strand of her brown hair away from her face, and turned the corner when she nearly fell over to the blocking of two dark figures.

_No…_

Carrows.

Although Hermione could not see their faces fully, since their hoods shaded them, she saw one of their devilish smiles among their rotten yellow teeth. Hermione's courage backed of like a little puppy against a Rottweiler. She backed up a few inches, pulling her cloak around her more, knowing what kind of things they could do to her. Especially since she was a Gryffindor.

"Oh, lookie here…," taunted one of the two pairs. Her voice resembled much of a timeworn, wrecked hag. "Going off to our dorms are we?" The Carrow stepped forward slowly. She was obviously a past Slytherin.

Hermione felt her throat clench up and she couldn't talk. She took a small step backwards, and she opened her mouth to speak. "N-no…," she croaked out.

The Carrow lifted her hood and looked straight at Hermione. She looked old enough to be 38. Her dark green eyes shot a menacing look at Hermione's now petrified ones.

"What house are you in?" the woman approached her more, making Hermione move back. He pointed a threatening finger at her chest.

Hermione shut her eyes tightly for a second, and looked away, swallowing a huge lump of uneasiness that was trapped in her throat. "S-slytherin," she lied as she tried to not look like she had lied.

The woman studied her with her ominous eyes, and backed up. "Better get going. Headmaster will not be happy to see students roaming the halls with no reason."

Hermione nodded and felt as if 20 pounds had been lifted off her shoulders.

"Wait!" the other Carrow yelled.

Hermione jolted to the sound of the male's voice. He looked straight at Hermione's chest and pointed. "She's not a Slytherin."

Hermione felt air clog her throat as she studied the two furious Carrows giving her a look that could kill. Hermione looked down at her chest where she saw the cloak had not completely concealed her uniform, and the bright gold and red tie was peeking out from her cloak.

_ Damn it, Hermione._

Hermione shot her head up, her eyes wide. She had a reaction to run as fast as she could down the hall, but she suddenly felt that it was a reckless thing to do, considering they would just petrify her on the spot. So instead she stood there like a statue, her chest heaving with gulps of air. Her heart beat with terrified thumps. She pressed her back against the wall.

There was nothing she could do.

Both Carrows surrounded her like she was a rat, and they swapped out their wands.

"Marjorie," the male hissed, keeping his yellow-framed eyes on Hermione, "I think Miss Gryffindor has lied to us in edict to escape our authorities."

The woman nodded and kept her eyes firmly on Hermione.

"No Gryffindors allowed roaming the halls for no reason. _And_ no Gryffindors allowed to lie about their house in order to get away," the male snapped like an alligator's jaws. His loud voice echoed about the empty hallway.

Both of the Carrows pointed their wands at Hermione.

"Marjorie, you make sure she stays put in that spot so I can get a direct hit at her," the male hissed, studying Hermione's body carefully.

Hermione instantly felt a strong wave engulf her, and the intensity made her fall to the ground. She marginally cried out in agony when she couldn't move her hands or feet, for they were stuck to the ground like they were magnets. The hopeless witch was stuck on the floor with both hands stuck to her side, knees bent in front of her, and back stuck to the icy, knife-like wall. She felt herself shaking from her fear of experiencing the Cruciatus Curse for the first time.

Or worse.

Hermione looked up bleakly at the male Carrow and waited for the curse to hit. The evil man focused his wand directly at her chest.

"_Crucio!_"

"Hey!" yelled another voice.

Hermione cried out from the outer pain of the start of the curse, which felt like shots beginning to penetrate her skin. Images of Harry and Ron flooded through her mind, like she could see them now. She could see them running in the forest, with a Horcrux in hand. They were defending spells and jumping through the fallen, murky trees. Then it all stopped, as did the curse.

Hermione fluttered her eyes open as everything went discreet for her. She didn't want to turn her head, knowing that it was probably a joke, and they would start the perturbing curse again. But she heard another voice before the shocks of pain happened. A call of necessity, and firmness.

Hermione clenched her eyes shut before turning her head. Her body still shook from the pain that had entered her body and mind.

"I am working together with her for potion research. We were meeting up in the library."

"Well she didn't say that."

"Well then what did she say?"

"We asked her if she was going to her do-"

Silence.

"Oh… But still! This stupid, arrogant girl lied to us about her house. Wouldn't you agree she deserves this kind of punishment?" the male hissed at the student.

"Yes she would, Galon, as the bloody Gryffindor she is, but I need her for research because she knows everything and I can't afford another bad grade."

The Carrows scowled, and turned their heads at Hermione, who still couldn't move. She was both stuck with the spell, and with disbelief. The man pulled his hood over his head, as did the woman.

"You consider yourself lucky, Gryffindor," the male jeered at Hermione, showing his unpleasant, yellow teeth. He studied her stranded, shaking body, looked back at the student, and then stormed off toward the end of the hall. The woman sneered at Hermione, and flicked her wand, instantly making Hermione's shoulders and body unlock. The woman strode after the man with quick steps.

The student a couple feet away from Hermione was crossing his arms, watching intently as the two Carrows left.

"What the hell were you thinking, Granger?" he asked sternly, now looking back at Hermione.

Hermione's arms throbbed and she felt like falling to the ground, and staying there until Harry and Ron would return. She stayed quiet and her limbs quivered like crazy.

Malfoy scowled and approached her with bold steps. "Hey! You were lucky that I came just in time for you to not get hit by that curse," he spat.

Hermione closed her eyes as she remembered the curse's evil ways strike her body in a way that made her think like she was going to die. Had that been really what Harry and Ron were doing right now? Were they really being chased by Deatheaters now? God, if they were, Hermione wouldn't know what to do for them. She felt so hopeless.

Malfoy studied her inaudible figure and took one more step toward her until he was in front of her. "It didn't hit you, did it?" he murmured.

Hermione peered up at him with her brown eyes, and quickly looked back down. She just tried to stand up as best she could.

_Bloody Carrows. _

Her legs literally felt like jelly, and trying to stand with soft material legs would not help at all. Hermione planted both of her palms against the prickly wall, and forced herself to stand as best as she could. She was almost to standing up straight when her palm slipped, and her head collided with the wall.

"Ow," she hissed quietly as she clenched her eyes shut, keeping the pain at bay.

Malfoy watched her with focus and grabbed her upper arms to balance her. "Merlin, Granger, did you drink a bottle of Firewhiskey or something?" he exclaimed, pulling her up so she could stand.

Hermione scoffed as she gently touched the back of her head. "Malfoy, incase you haven't noticed, I was just held down by a spell with a force of a ton of bricks. And I don't drink," she stated firmly to the Slytherin.

Malfoy smirked, his Slytherin side showing through. "Actually, Granger, seeing you drink would be quite amusing, since you're such a goody two shoes yourself."

Hermione just exhaled, and brought her hand back in front of her face. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and she dropped her hand, heading toward the library. "C'mon. We have to research."

Malfoy followed her in, and he sat himself at one of the tables Hermione had put her stuff on. While he hung his cloak, Hermione took off her cloak, and headed toward the shelves where the huge books were and started searching through the books.

Hermione returned to the table with 3-inch books in her arms; she had already started reading one of them. The witch dropped the books on the table as they all concluded with a loud thump. "Alright, so what we have to do is find out about plants, small water animals, minerals that include strong ingredients, and information like that," Hermione explained to the Slytherin.

Malfoy sighed, and snatched one of the books, lazily flipping through it. After several seconds, he peered over the book, and studied the curly-haired Gryffindor. "How do you enjoy reading this stuff? It's boring and there's really nothing to it," he asked sternly.

Hermione looked up from her book, and then sighed. "I don't know. I guess it's natural for me to like this. My mother would tell me to read, and I didn't want to when I was little, but now, it's a part of me now, and it's very helpful for me."

Malfoy lowered his book. "But wouldn't you want to do something else then just sit around all day, cuddling with 10 books?"

"I didn't really like anything else at the time, and whatever Harry and Ron did, I didn't really want to do." Hermione flipped the page of her book slowly.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, and studied Hermione's uncomfortable feature; the way she held her book like she was strangling someone, and the occasional deep breaths of air she was taking told him that she was uncomfortable about something. "Granger, where are Potter and Weasley, really," he asked seriously.

Hermione looked up from her book again, her stomach twisting to the uncertainty of telling Malfoy about the Horcrux search. She couldn't fully trust him, because he could have the slightest chance of still working for the Dark Lord; on the other hand, she gave him a promise that she would not tell anybody about the angel. Hermione closed her book and shook her head. "I can't trust you, Malfoy."

Malfoy squeezed the table legs in frustration. "Granger, it's not like I'm going to tell the whole Slytherin house," he said irascibly.

Hermione did half of a laugh and a scoff, and took out a quill. "Actually, that's what I was thinking you would do." She started scribbling down notes on her parchment.

"Granger," he put his hands on the table and looked at her. Hermione looked up and studied his grey eyes again. "I want to know."

Hermione bit her lips and put her quill back in her bag. She leaned back casually on her chair and studied Malfoy. "I'll think about it," she said mellifluously, as she grabbed her book to read again.

Malfoy opened his mouth to argue, but he decided not to; it would be no use. He would just have to wait. The blonde leaned back in his chair and gaped at the wall behind Granger and just randomly noted patterns. Something suddenly caught his eye near the door. His mercury eyes swapped toward the door, and there, he saw, a dark clothed figure. Malfoy's features turned cold, as he realized who it was.

Snape.

* * *

A/N: Oh my word! Guys I am so sorry about the ENORMOUSLY long wait! I'm so so extremely sorry about it! I have so many things going on, but I will write during the summer! My next chapter will probably be sometime in June, but then that's when school is out so yay! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a review! :)

**_Review Replies_**:

**fangirl4eva-** Oh my gosh! Thank you so much! I hope you are happy that the chapter is here now! You are amazing! Thanks so very much!

* * *

Any way, good bye everyone! Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize.

~Icemonsta xx oo


	10. Too Close

A/N: In the last chapter, the song Gymnopedie No. 3 was the song Hermione was playing. I do not own the song, it belongs to Erik Satie. I love that song!

Disclaimer: WHAT TIME IS IT? Summer time! Not time to own the whole Harry Potter series. It allll goes to Ms. J.K. Rowling.

* * *

Chapter 9: Too Close

Hermione had noticed Malfoy had been abnormally quiet for the past few seconds. She couldn't hear his frustrated breathing, or the occasional flipping of the pages of his book he was reading. The witch peered up from her book, and she saw a nearly petrified looking Malfoy, gaping at the space behind her. Hermione studied his still state, and only his chest was moving up and down; the rest of Malfoy's figure was still. His mercury eyes were pinned toward the door, and Hermione turned around slowly, her eyebrows furrowed, wondering what made him look so infrequent. Her eyes trailed toward the dark doorway, where her least favorite teacher was standing. She nearly gasped in shock, and she lost much of her grip on her book, which made the book collapse on the table.

Snape endured there like a statue that had never been touched. His opaque cloak trailed behind him at least a few inches, and the rest of his body was clothed with black material. His dark eyes were studying the two students.

Hermione gripped the back of her chair, and she felt her silent pants get faster and faster. Malfoy stood up from his chair, but kept his eyes on Snape like he was his captain. "Headmaster," he greeted hesitantly.

Snape just narrowed his eyes for a second at Draco, and then slowly started striding toward the table. Hermione watched him intently as he came closer to the table. Snape stopped and glared at Hermione's open book and her notes that she had written about it, and then he swapped his eyes to the brown haired witch. "Alihotsy, Ms. Granger?" he asked deeply inquiring.

Hermione felt her stomach flip to her anxiety, and she switched her eyes to Malfoy who was clenching his fists, and squeezing his eyes shut. She immediately moved her eyes back to the shadowy Headmaster and nodded.

"Yes. For my personal understanding of plants, sir," she replied as firmly as she could.

Snape breathed in through his hooknose and glared daggers at her. "And why would you be interested in a plant that could kill someone, Ms. Granger? Perhaps I was wrong to think that you wouldn't want to kill anyone," he stated with his finalizing voice.

"I don't want to kill anyone, Headmaster." Hermione's voice felt cracked to the feeling of saying "headmaster" to the person who killed the rightful leader of Hogwarts. "As I said before, it's just for my understanding of how certain plants work," Hermione firmly aforesaid, trying to keep her eyes honest to the dark man.

Snape curled his lip, and looked at the Gryffindor in disgust. He then looked at Draco, who was back to his serious state. "And what would a Slytherin and a Gryffindor be doing in the same room? Particularly you, Mr. Malfoy, with Ms. Granger?" Snape had become increasingly apprehensive at this point.

Hermione could have sworn that she saw Malfoy flinch. Considering all the times Malfoy and Hermione got away with secrets, this one could be the hardest one to escape.

_Was he going to tell Snape?_

Hermione glanced at Malfoy, almost desperately, and shook her head so that the Headmaster could not see. Malfoy turned his grey-swirled eyes to Hermione, and he saw her despairing honey-dark eyes gaping at him.

_Hell… _

Now Draco was going to be brought to the Malfoy Manor if he didn't tell the truth.

"So is it just coincidence that you started to_ favor_ each other?" Snape hissed.

Hermione almost felt nauseas from his statement. Her and Malfoy as best of buddies? What did he expect they were doing? Linking arms and giggling as they joyfully roamed the castle?

"No, sir," stated Malfoy, staring straight into Snape's black eyes.

Hermione clenched her eyes shut.

_It's all over. He's going to bloody tell that evil, arrogant-_

"I was having trouble in my studies, and so I wanted to get better. Professor Sinstra gave me the Mudblood to help me with my studies," Malfoy firmly specified.

Hermione saw Snape's mouth unclench, his dark hairs slightly flatten down, and his breathing become a little more steady.

"Is that so, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger?" He asked strictly.

Malfoy nodded once; it was a firm nod that sent a definite message to the dark Headmaster. Snape glared at Hermione with his cold daggers, and she tried to copy the same nod.

Malfoy tilted his head down and leaned toward Snape. "I am getting better in my studies, but no matter how much I stay away from the Mudblood, her stench is unbearable," he whispered to Snape, trying to act as though he hates her more.

Hermione's head shot up when she could hear him say the words, "Mudblood", and "stench".

Malfoy did his signature lip twist of disgust, and glared at Hermione like he used to. He tried to glare at her so she could get the message that this was all an act so his lie could be more real.

Hermione spotted the message after his sincere glare, and just straightened her back more, and crossed her arms across her chest, sneering at him.

Snape studied the two students and felt his head pinching from the conflicts between the two teenagers. He straightened his posture, and glared knives at them both.

"I suggest you two get back to work, and if I see anything suspicious, you two will be sent to the office." He glared at Hermione. "And you might want to stay away from him on casual days, Ms. Granger, because his parents do not want to see any Muggleborn trailing along a superior. If there is any problem, you _will_ be expelled."

Hermione cringed from his words, and nodded once. "Yes, sir," she murmured.

Snape glanced at Malfoy, and spun toward the door, slamming the door behind him as he took his bold steps.

Malfoy sighed and sat back down in his chair. "God, that was too bloody close." He smirked. "Well I have to admit that I am a great actor, aren't I?"

Hermione sat down and looked at him. "Do you really think that I smell that bad?" she asked.

"You heard that?" he asked.

Hermione smiled warmly. "It's alright. I don't like wearing perfume. I just think it makes girls smell cheap, and desperate."

Malfoy looked down. She _was_ different than other girls. Every girl he had dated wore too much perfume, or too much makeup. Granger was a natural, and proud of it. But, his whole act wasn't that true. Granger actually did smell nice.

Hermione checked her watch and her eyes grew like plates. "Oh, God. I have to leave," she rushed, hastily stacking her books in front of her. "Here, read these." She handed him a few books. She grabbed her cloak and shoved it on.

Malfoy observed at her with curious eyes. "Where are you going?" he asked resolutely.

Hermione grabbed her books. "I have to meet up with Michael. Head duties." She started walking.

Malfoy snatched his books and strode after her. "Wait."

Hermione turned around to face Malfoy. "What?"

"When are we meeting up again for the project?"

Hermione slightly laughed. "Now you are the one now who is making up the dates."

Malfoy frowned. "Look, Granger. I still want to get this stupid grade, alright?"

Hermione tucked a curl behind her ear. "Tomorrow at 4. Meet me in the Room of Requirement. We are much more safer in there."

Malfoy nodded once at the honey-eyed witch, and with slight hesitation, Granger hastily whipped around and headed down the hall with her usual urgency.

Malfoy looked down at one of his book and observed it; it was a book about water plants. Malfoy clenched his jaw, thinking whether he should read the book or not. He was not in the mood to do any studying. In fact, he wanted to do something even more like himself. Malfoy pulled up his sleeve and looked at his dark mark as it seemed to sneer back at him.

The black, tattoo-like mark swam on his arm like an unhurried snake. His instincts had been telling him to defeat the Muggles, and this school. Draco wanted to crush this school into hopeless bits, and crush the Muggles like they were tin cans. He wanted their souls to suffer, and he wanted every piece left of Hogwarts to be destroyed by the Deatheaters.

Why, he thought, why was it him?

Couldn't it be someone else in the whole, sodding Pureblood race that could take over his job? Well, yes, it could be because Draco had went to school at Hogwarts, _and_ his mother wanted him to finish his last year, but other then that, he was just really hopeless.

Adding to the fact the Draco had failed the Dark Lord so cravenly; Draco was almost frightened that Voldemort would kill him for it.

But Draco thought; what happens if he really _did _follow the Dark Lord's order? What if he actually succeeded at crushing the school's halls? Would the Dark Lord approve of him then?

Then that's when it hit Draco.

He should be on Voldemort's side. It would gain him so much respect, and honor.

Besides, Granger didn't know about it, and no one did. It would be amusing to see their past student destroying what was once their castle of memories.

Malfoy looked at the book once more, curving his lip, and slammed it back on the table with his Slytherin carelessness. He walked off down the hall, knowing exactly where to get his information from.

* * *

Hermione tightened the grasp on her books that were almost about to topple over her shoulder. She faced the door with concern, and murmured the password. It was changed every month, since the school was currently being watched, so Michael and Hermione knew it was the smart thing to do, knowing that Carrows could get in and perhaps catch them one day for planning fighting ideas.

The door flew open as Hermione nearly tumbled in with the weight of all her books. The golden-haired boy in front of her faced the door with the sudden entering of the hasty witch.

"Hermione-"

"I'm extremely sorry I was late," Hermione blurted out, walking to her room in a dissolute matter.

Hermione plopped the books on her desk, and straightened them in a neat pile, as she absolutely_ loathed_ seeing disorganization. Once she was satisfied she hustled out of the room and walked toward Michael, rubbing her temples slowly.

"Michael, I'm so sorry I'm late." She sat down on the couch as she observed the parchment and paper on the table, ready for scheduling. "I-"

"It's alright, Hermione," Michael's bright laugh cut in as he placed himself on the couch. "You didn't miss anything exciting."

Hermione sighed, twiddling her fingers together. "I know. I just tend to freak out when I'm late because I know how important this is to you, and I don't want to mess it up," Hermione said quietly, facing him.

Michael showed his warm grin to her. "I appreciate that, Hermione, you know I do, but if you are going to risk your life just coming up the stairs, I wouldn't appreciate that."

Hermione smiled. His humor was just what she needed right now after a tiring day with the Carrows and Malfoy.

Michael grabbed the piece of written parchment on the table. "Alright, so I was thinking that we could have a few occasions because of the war and everything-"

"An occasion? What kind of occasion?" Hermione asked.

Michael gave the parchment to Hermione. She took it and studied the dates.

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "A ball?"

Michael shrugged. "I just thought it would be reasonable to bring back the old days with everything that's going on…"

Hermione bit her lip. "How are we supposed to do one if Snape could find out?"

Michael sighed. "I didn't figure that part out yet."

The two students kept quiet for a long time, either out of options, or thinking really hard.

Michael sat up. "We should just do it." He stated sharply.

Hermione glanced at him like he was crazy. "Are you serious? What if he finds out?"

Michael faced her. "To hell if he finds out. We need something that will make our classmates happy."

Hermione bit her lip, feeling precautious about what would happen if that evil, hook-nosed, bloke would find out. Who knows what would happen. Michael and her could get expelled.

Hermione stood and shook her head. "No, Michael we can't. We'd be risking our grades, and we could be expelled…"

Michael stood up and looked at her. "C'mon, Hermione. We have to." His features turned soft again. "This is our last chance."

Hermione studied his golden speckled eyes and felt warmth engulf her stomach. She tried to shake off the uneasy feeling, but it stayed there like a huge boulder. Her mind suddenly switched to Ron and Harry. Would they have wanted to have a ball if they were here?

Hermione sighed. "Alright. Fine." She murmured.

Michael grinned slightly. "I promise you. It will be the best choice."

Hermione nodded, a tiny smile forming on her lips. She sat back down, feeling a little better knowing that Michael was responsible, and could have this all under control.

"Christmas would probably be the best time for this ball," said Michael.

"Let's do the ball two days before Christmas," Hermione indicated. "How is the rumor going to spread without the Carrows or Snape finding out?"

"We will just have to tell everyone by ear. No notes, and nothing that can be caught. We just have to naturally do it by telling everyone," Michael explained.

Hermione ran her fingers through her curls and stood up. "Ok, that's settled. I'll tell Professor McGonagall today. Tomorrow, I think, is the time where most of the Carrows' hang about since it's Friday…"Hermione flinched from the memory of the Cruciatus curse pricking her skin.

Michael spotted her sudden movement, like a bee had stung her. "Hermione are you alright?" he asked.

Hermione turned around. "Oh yeah, I- I'm fine. What makes you think I'm not?" she asked as she tried to conceal her foolish reaction.

Michael stood up, easily towering her by a few inches. "You just seemed uncomfortable for a moment."

"Michael, I'm beginning to question your colossal amount of concern for me these days," Hermione stated to the honey haired man.

Michael smiled. But almost like he was sad. "That's because I know what you are suffering through right now. I mean, with Harry and Ron gone, it must be hard for you to carry on."

Hermione felt her gut twist in his- somehow- thoughtful, and caring words. They felt like gallons of fresh, crisp water after walking a day in the desert. She blinked her eyes a few times, worried that those foolish tears of hers would pour out of her eyes. She only felt the stinging of the salty emotions though.

Hermione looked up at Michael, happy to know that someone had cared for her because people that important, like Harry and Ron, were far away from her, and she didn't know whether or not they were coming back.

Or even alive.

"Thank you, Michael. I really appreciate it," Hermione quietly stated. "I really do."

Michael smiled warmly, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

There was complete silence. Hermione felt his warm hand gradually move up to her neck, so he was almost cupping Hermione's chin. Hermione's face felt flushed, and Michael's caring soul left a comforting feel on her neck. As she studied Michael's eyes, she felt the same warmhearted feeling in her stomach. His eyes were like painted marbles, with colors of honey, brown, and matte black.

Hermione saw his eyes get closer, and she suddenly realized he was slowly moving forward.

Millions of thoughts ran through her head, as she stood there petrified.

Hermione just stood there, with her wide eyes glued to Michael's. Her stomach fluttered with anxiety. He was about 2 inches away when Hermione stopped him.

"I have to go," Hermione stuttered. He was so close, that she could feel his breath against her forehead.

Hermione could have sworn that she saw a bit of disappointment in Michael's eyes when she stopped him. But Michael simply nodded, and let his hand drop from her chin and neck. Hermione felt herself have all the heat lifted off of her. Instead of showing how alarmed she was, she grabbed her cloak and quickly strode out the entrance portrait, leaving Michael standing where he was, still looking where Hermione was.

Hermione closed her eyes, and leaned her back against the door.

_Why are you such a bloody fool, Hermione?_

She almost let Michael kiss her. Why did she stop?

She didn't know.

Michael was very nice, caring, sweet, and smart, but he was Head Boy, as she was Head Girl. Hermione had never kissed a boy in her life, and she was so used to not accepting those kinds of things.

"Ouch, do you mind, Ms. Granger? You are leaning on my foot," a voice interrupted from above her.

Hermione opened her eyes and turned around, looking at the portrait. "Sorry, sir," Hermione mumbled, as she started to go down the stairs.

Throughout the whole way to McGonagall's office, Hermione had the urge to go after Harry and Ron, even if it meant to fly a broom. She felt so confused with everything. She wanted to be with Harry and Ron, more than anything.

Even if it cost her life.

* * *

Malfoy resisted the urge to curse in front of the old man's face as he once again shoved his back with a stick. He was leading Draco through the door where the Dark Lord was settled.

"Go on then," the old man hissed.

"I am," Draco spat. "Just stop shoving me with that bloody stick of yours."

Draco shoved the man away and strode through the door, his hair wet from the rain. He heard chattering in the room, but he thought it was just a meeting with the Death Eaters. Draco instantly past the corner, and all the talking stopped, and he felt eyes on him. Malfoy felt a sudden chill in him as a cold gaze landed on him.

Malfoy's eyes landed on his master, staring at him with some surprise.

The Death Eaters murmured a few words to each other, but Voldemort faced them.

"Away!" he yelled, looking at each and every one of the Death Eaters.

The men nodded, and bowed, leaving the room rashly.

Once all the doors were closed in the room, Voldemort sat at his seat.

"Why is this so private, my lord?" Draco asked as he walked toward him.

"If one of these idiots happen to catch our talk, they are bound to attack Hogwarts out of plan with their stupidity," Voldemort spat. "What do you want, Draco?"

Draco straightened his posture, and acted like a true servant of his. "I have found information about the school," Draco informed. "And this time, I can assure you that it is helpful."

Voldemort studied Draco's state, and then placed his hand on the arm of his opaque throne.

Draco waited for his response, but seeming that he didn't give one, Draco continued by taking out his wand. He turned his back on the Dark Lord and dimmed the lights. With a swipe of his wand, golden, flame-like marks appeared in the air as Draco drew a structure.

He drew a model of the school, big enough for the Dark Lord to see. Draco was a pretty good artist, but his interest was never in drawing. After a few seconds, the 3D floating model of the school was complete. Draco swapped around and moved the model with his wand toward the dark man.

Draco indicated with his wand at specific points. He first pointed to the section farthest away from the castle.

"Here, no one really comes in. So the teachers said that they would be leading some students in there. By entering through the back, no one can see you."

Draco turned the model around.

"This is where the bridge to the school is. It's, once again, more behind the school, and I bet most of the Death Eaters can charge across the bridge and force people to join your side." Malfoy's voice felt weak.

Malfoy flipped the blinds so it was lighter again, and the model disappeared in the air.

Voldemort sat up straight, but very slowly, almost like he was upset. His thin, pale lips formed into almost a frown, and Draco felt like he did something bad.

"So you are signifying we do a surprise attack?" Voldemort asked.

Draco clenched his fist. "Y-yes, that could be a possible factor…" Malfoy said.

There was silence, but it seemed like every tick was gradually stabbing Malfoy in the head.

Voldemort did a sort of scoff, and chuckle mixed together, and it made Draco anxious if he had done something wrong.

"Well, Draco. You have proven yourself of _some_ worth," Voldemort hissed.

Draco did a slight bow with his head. "Thank you, my lord."

"It could be a suitable way to force more people to join our side," he trailed on.

Draco tried to keep himself steady from the truth that he really was on Voldemort's side. He couldn't push away the fact that he was a Death Eater.

"Find me some more information, Draco. And tell me," Voldemort ordered.

Malfoy nodded. "Yes, my lord," he said. He started walking toward the door.

"You know the consequences, Draco, if you shall ever fail me," Voldemort added with his malevolent voice.

Draco knew what they were, and he left the room in a hurry, feeling better about his actions to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord almost started trusting him.

But something didn't feel right.

With every step he took, and every word he heard of the teachers' plans for the students, he mentally wanted to kick himself for processing the information to the Dark Lord.

_Why the hell couldn't Snape do it? _

He was none other than a daunting member of the Dark Lord, but also the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Snape also was strict on Draco, but, somehow, at the same time, fair to him. He would give out points to Slytherin, because if he failed to do so, Draco's dad would have another imprudent talk with him about his blood and how important it is that Slytherin is ahead.

Draco felt so much like a rubber band; usually used for the littlest things, and people used him like a slave, pulling him each way to use until it snapped.

Draco didn't go back to Hogwarts immediately; he wanted to see his mother more than anything. As he remembered his house, the cold manor seemed less taken care of. It seemed like Draco's mother hadn't done any cleaning whatsoever in the house. This worried Draco.

He walked down the hall, and he searched the rooms, quietly calling out for her name. Draco saw the last door, with light peeking out from the bottom, and he heard someone crying. Draco opened the door quickly, looking in to see his mother.

She was sitting on the floor by her bed, and she was sobbing hopelessly.

"Lucius," she muttered, her voice shaking. She didn't turn around. "Please."

Draco studied her in unease and inquisitorial feelings. "Mother, it's Draco."

He heard his mother gasp, but still not turn her head around. "D-Draco?" she squeaked.

Draco shut the door, and hurriedly went over to his mother and kneeled down in front of her, observing her face in shock.

Her face was murky, like she had rolled in dirt, and her lip was bleeding. Her wrists were red and parched, like someone had put chains on her.

"Mother, who did this to you?" Draco asked softly, cupping her face in his palms. "Was it the Dark Lord?"

A tear fell down from Narcissa's aged, bushed, blue eyes and she shook her head.

"Who?" Draco insisted sensitively. "Please, mother, you have to tell me."

Narcissa breathed in a shaky breath. "Your father was mad, you see. He thought I was hiding something from him. Something important," Narcissa spoke quietly. "Something about you."

Draco's eyes widened, as he feared that his mother might have told him about the project he was working on with Granger, but also because she was hurt so badly because of it. He suddenly noticed that she couldn't move, and her wounds were bad, so he took out his wand.

Narcissa stopped him with her somber eyes. "No, don't, Draco. If he finds out about this he will hurt you. I can't-"

"No exceptions, Mother. I'm not letting you suffer," Draco cut in, flicking his wand so that she was unleashed from the holding spell. He aimed at her wrist wounds.

"_Guarire le ferrite_," he said, and the wounds slowly turned to her skin color.

Narcissa looked at her wrists in astonishment. "Where did you learn this spell?"

"It was one of Granger's spells," Draco said, stuffing his wand in his pocket.

"She must be one clever witch to make up a spell this effective," Narcissa stated.

Malfoy looked at the ground for a second, thinking about it, although it was true, and then he looked back up to his mother.

"What did they do to you?" he asked his mother whose eyes turned grey again.

"No, Draco. Don't do this to yourself-"

"Mother, just tell me, please," Draco pleaded.

Narcissa sighed and held her hands with Draco. "He yelled at me, and he told me I was worthless. Then he hit me on the face…" she trailed off.

Draco's grip tightened around his mother's hand for a second, but reminding himself that it would hurt her healing wounds. His father was a demon. He was a demon that hated everyone. He could do whatever he wanted. He could destroy everything in his path if he wanted to.

"Then he beat me. The more I kept the secret about you and the project, the more he beat me. He put chains on my hands and threatened to pull my hands if I didn't tell him," Narcissa's voice started cracking from all the pain within her.

Draco, at this point, didn't care if his father knew about the project. He just wanted his mother to be okay both mentally and physically.

Narcissa looked in Draco's worried eyes. "I didn't ever tell him."

Draco's mouth felt broken, and his lips parted with shock. "God damn it, Mother! You could of killed yourself!" He felt anger engulf him. He embraced his mother, feeling tears sting his eyes, and she hugged him back, feeling warmth.

He never wanted to let her go.

"I'm okay now, Draco. He just gave up, and brought me to this room and kept me here."

Draco let go and looked into his mother's eyes. "Mother, I promise you that Father is going to pay for what he has done," he growled.

Narcissa shook her head sadly. "Draco, you can't go against your father. He is in power," Narcissa said.

Draco kissed her forehead, and looked into her lost eyes. "Mother, you just stay safe. Don't risk your life for me. Tell Father it was me who healed you. I will deal with him later." Draco stood up, and helped his mother up.

His mother smiled sadly, her eyes sparkling with tears. "You are becoming such a man now, Draco." She placed a hand on his cheek.

Draco smiled with sorrow too, and kissed her forehead one last time. "I love you, Mother," he tenderly said.

Narcissa closed her eyes, and then opened them to see her son that was more a man now. "Oh, Draco. You know I love you more than anything," she whispered.

Draco backed up, and looked at his mother once more, and then disappeared from the room.

_I love you so much._

* * *

A/N: Oh goodie goodie! I'm happy I got this chapter out! Summer is here, and I think I will spend most of my time writing, or swimming! :P I have a huge vaca planed in July, so I probably won't be posting chapters in that time period. But I will write, and then I will post ASAP. I probably will have 3 chapters by then. More chapters this month, and I love you all! Have a great, and happy summer!

Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize

~I love you all too much to say! –Ice monsta xoxoxoxoxo


	11. Arrangements

**Disclaimer: **I own a whole bunch of things, but, sadly, Harry Potter isn't one of those things.

* * *

Chapter 10: Arrangements 

"A ball?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Professor. For Christmas."

The aged professor leaned back in her chair and started rubbing her chin with her finger.

"It doesn't seem like a bad idea. The only problem is that Severus could find out," McGonagall said.

Hermione grasped her hands nervously. "Yes, that was the part I was uneasy about too," agreed Hermione.

McGonagall sighed, and took off her spectacles. As Hermione watched her carefully put them into a box, she spoke up.

"But I can assure you, Professor, that Michael and I will be very responsible to what will happen," Hermione felt a spark from the moment.

McGonagall stared at a space on the ground for some time, while Hermione fervently waited for an answer.

"Alright," McGonagall said. "You may do it, but keep as quiet as you can about it. Severus can do anything to students these days, and Ms. Granger, I do not want you to be expelled."

Hermione nodded doubtingly, feeling, again, that this would be a really depraved idea.

The professor stood up and walked over to the bookshelf next to her desk, and started picking through the books.

Hermione closed her eyes and dampened her lips. "Professor," She felt tentative. "I have a question about Draco Malfoy."

The woman stopped shuffling through the books and looked at Hermione. "And what is this question?" she asked.

Hermione inhaled. "I hope you don't mind me being a bit rude, but, what exactly did his mother say about him? How did they secede from-" Hermione hoped that her teacher wouldn't be angry. "Voldemort?"

Professor McGonagall hesitated as she placed one book back and sat back down at her chair. She looked at Hermione seriously with her drained eyes.

"The Malfoy's are very strict about their beliefs, as you may know."

Hermione nodded as she sat down on the chair in front of her desk.

"Their Pureblood race has been around for a long time, and most of the time Purebloods do not mate with any other people except Purebloods. Mr. Malfoy's family happens to be the epitome of the perfect family of Purebloods. Voldemort, as you know, is not a Pureblood. So, as Mr. Malfoy's mother said, that was one of the reasons why they had left. They took the risk of being killed by Voldemort to get away from him."

Hermione was shocked by her words. Malfoy's family could have been killed?

"But how weren't they killed?" Hermione asked.

"That is one of my concerns, Ms. Granger. We all know that Voldemort does not like people leaving his group. Narcissa, Mr. Malfoy's mother, said that they luckily weren't killed, but they were cast with shame from him, and that way, they couldn't ever be spared in tough situations. Their Dark Marks were taken off, which was extremely painful as Narcissa said."

Hermione almost shivered to the thought of seeing Malfoy getting that mark literally cut out of their skin.

"That is why he kept calling me a Mudblood," Hermione said. "He is starting a new, big Pureblood race, so he is acting like he would when he was younger. He had just started getting used to the new Pureblood life when he was young, so now he started again."

"Exactly, Ms. Granger. And the other reason that they left, which is probably the most important reason, is that they didn't like the fact Voldemort was hurting Mr. Malfoy. He had to spy for him last year, and he succeeded. However, Mr. Malfoy's parents did not like the idea of him being excluded out of all the activities since he was looking for an entryway 24/7."

Hermione felt petrified. "I- I didn't know that…" Hermione mumbled as she stood up. "Thanks though, Professor."

McGonagall grinned and nodded. "You watch yourself now," she called after her as she walked out the door.

"I will," Hermione called back, feeling a pit of regret in her stomach for some reason.

* * *

Winter was obviously noticeable by all the students. It had become even colder than it normally was in the fall, and the trees were bare like old skeletons. But this 1st day of December was really lovely for Hermione. There was snow.

She actually had not seen it this peaceful though. It was like dots of brisk, delicate puffs of feathers floating down through the sky. The ground was covered with a thick sheet of snow, and the mountains and landscape were clothed with the white, heavenly ice.

Hermione's classes were pretty boring again this day, and her mind just wanted to think of Ron and Harry. They were so far away, but she wanted their presence next to her, when they were laughing and joking around.

Hermione felt Michael's eyes settle on her a lot during the day, but she just ignored him. Whenever class was over and they usually met up, she just walked away, saying that she needed to do something important. She wasn't angry and Michael, but she just didn't want to talk to him when they almost kissed.

Hermione walked to the Room of Requirement when it was 3:55, with huge stacks of books in her hands.

_This better be worth my time._

Although Hermione had to work with Michael to arrange all the occasions and stuff, she wouldn't want to be there. Michael almost kissed her, and she as almost of afraid of him trying it again. That could lead to worse things.

Hermione checked around for any Carrows, or Snape that could be watching. Although she didn't see anything, they could have still been using a secret trick to make themselves invisible. But, certain that she was secure; she climbed through the wall as it closed behind her.

Hermione was welcomed to a pitch-black darkness. It made Hermione shiver as she felt the colder air bite her open skin. The lightest area there was in the room was the window where there was soft snow falling. Hermione got out her wand and made her way through the rubble as she approached the window.

Malfoy was probably late anyway, so she put her wand away and stared outside of the window. The witch saw nothing but white, and blurry visions of the snowflakes falling serenely to the ground. Hermione tried to keep away from the scolding images of Harry and Ron, and her worries became greater every hour when she didn't get a message back from them. Hermione told herself that she was over exaggerating, but Hermione worried if she panicked too much, she would have another fit.

Hermione heard a noise in the dark room, and she swung around to see if it was Malfoy. However the wall didn't open, and Hermione was sure that it wasn't any creature. It was a loud clacking, like someone walking through the piles in the room. Hermione took out her wand, and walked toward the sound, feeling her heartbeats grow faster and faster.

It couldn't be Malfoy. He was always late, and he would have had his wand out.

Hermione muttered the lighting spell, as the sound became even closer. She then flashed it a little higher, and she saw Malfoy's face.

Hermione screamed from the sudden shock of seeing Malfoy, and she dropped her books on the floor.

"Sodding hell, Granger," Malfoy hissed as Hermione saw that she had dropped the books on his foot. He was clutching his ankle as Hermione gasped and tried to look for the nearest light. She shot a spell at the light and it lit up the rest of the ones in the room.

"Oh my God! Malfoy! Why the hell would you try and sneak up on me like that?" Hermione yelled.

Malfoy tilted his head up and shot her an angry look. "Why didn't you turn on the lights then so you can see my bloody body instead of dropping your 10 pound books on my foot?" He countered.

Hermione pursed her lips and picked up her books. "I couldn't see, and my mind was on other things. You should have lit your bloody wand!"

Malfoy opened his mouth to counter, but he noticed that she was right, and just growled.

Hermione lit the fire with her wand and placed her books on the table. Malfoy had sat himself down on one of the chairs with his shoe off, rubbing his foot.

"Alright, I admit that I am sorry for dropping my books on you, but I hate when people just pop out of nowhere," Hermione said, approaching Draco.

Draco just growled in response, and looked under his sock. "Now you left a bloody bruise!" he hissed.

Hermione got next to Malfoy and observed the bruise on his perfectly shaped foot. "Oh, come now Malfoy, it's nothing that I can't fix. It's not that bad," Hermione assumed.

Malfoy swatted her hand away when she was close to touching his foot. "Granger, in no world would I let you touch my foot. I can fix it myself," Draco hissed at the witch who was now in front of him.

"Malfoy, the last time you said that you had the worst cut I had ever seen," Hermione said, looking at Malfoy.

Draco observed her features. The fire behind her resembled much of her personality.

Malfoy thought about it and knew it was true. "Why do you want to help me so much, Granger?"

Hermione remembered what McGonagall told her about Malfoy. She remembered how he had his Dark Mark cut out of his skin. She remembered all he had went through, and that she had never been that nice to him. "Malfoy. You are extremely irritant and annoying, but wouldn't you do the same for me?" Hermione asked.

Malfoy shut his mouth. "Maybe... But most likely not," he spat

Hermione felt shocked by his words, but shook them off, knowing he was a prat, and then kneeled down on her knees. "Well I will help you anyway," she said sternly.

Draco looked at her in confusion as she studied his foot. He actually kind of did want Granger to heal him. All her spells left his wounds feel better. But another reason was that he wanted to feel her skin again.

Hermione looked up at him with a tinge of awkwardness in her face, but then she slowly took off his sock, being careful not to hurt his bruise.

Draco felt her delicate, warm fingers touch his sensitive foot and he felt his nerves shake all the way up to his head. Her peach skin was so familiar. He watched her as she studied the bruise right below the ankle.

It was as big as two quarters put together. He watched as Hermione took out her wand and murmured a spell that he had heard her once say.

"Mal di andata," she murmured near his skin. Her warm breath ghosted against his ankle, and it sunk into his skin like water. A blue light appeared at the tip of her wand onto the bruise, and Draco felt a pinch on his foot. His leg slightly moved.

Draco watched as Granger bit her lip and put her wand down. She moved her fingers up to the bruise and massaged it looking at Draco. "Does this hurt?" She asked. Hermione felt awkward touching Malfoy's feet, but she knew it was mandatory for this spell to see if it worked.

Draco hesitated a shake of the head as he almost sighed to the pleasant feeling of her fingers massaging his foot. He felt her fingers move down the foot and he closed his eyes at one spot where she massaged. "Does it hurt anywhere on your foot?" She asked.

"No," Draco managed out.

Hermione put her hands down, pleased that the spell had worked. "Alright, your good now." She stood up and went to the table.

Draco shoved his sock on while he intently watched her. Granger was way different then any girl he knew. Although she was a Gryffindor, many Gryffindor girls would wear girly things and gadgets. Granger was a smart, bossy, sniffy, and natural woman. She was never seen without a book.

"Malfoy, c'mon. I found something yesterday."

Malfoy scooted her chair up and took a book from Granger.

"I've got a lot of information about plants that can heal, kill, and do other things. But I found one particular one that I thought was interesting," Granger explained to Malfoy who was next to her.

Malfoy looked at the page Granger had shoved to him. Her handwriting was all over the page and he heard her stand up and pace.

"Mortie Nocte?" Draco murmured as he studied the paper.

Hermione stopped and faced Malfoy. "Yes. I came across it when I was reading one of the plant books. It is said to be extremely powerful and can bring people back from near death or death. I've constantly looked it up in history books, but there is barely any record of it ever being used."

Malfoy looked up at her. "Why haven't they made a lot of the potion if it has this kind of power?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pointed at a line on the page. "If you bothered to read, it says because it is in one of the most unusual forests, the Forest of Dusk, and it only comes out at exactly midnight on a full moon."

Malfoy studied the page. "So what are you thinking, Granger? Going into the forest at bloody midnight where there can be all sorts of creatures and things that can kill you?" He looked up at Granger, his face in a smirk.

Hermione looked at him seriously.

Malfoy's smirk disappeared. "You're joking, right?"

Hermione snatched the book from him and started reading it again as she walked around the room.

Malfoy stood up from his seat and followed her. "Granger. First off, during the war, you can't leave the school without being captured or something. And second off, the teachers would not allow you to leave the school."

Hermione turned toward him and closed the book. "Fine then, Malfoy, you are going with me."

Malfoy gave her a questioning look. "What? You can't make me-"

"You are my partner, and unless you want to get a bad grade then fine. I won't make you come with me." Hermione cut in sternly.

Draco sat down on the piano bench and squeezed his eyes shut, massaging the bridge of his nose. He knew how much this grade meant to him, and especially, his mother. He couldn't fail her now. "Fine," he spat.

Hermione started pacing again. "The only problem is getting Professor McGonagall's permission. It is, as you said, extremely dangerous."

"I didn't say that," Malfoy spat, eyeing her. "I said that it was a really rash idea."

"Well, in days like these, there's not much of a difference, is there?"

Malfoy thought it for a while, and had to agree with her.

"The next full moon is tomorrow. I need to talk to McGonagall," Hermione said. She walked back over to the table and collected her books.

Malfoy stopped her as soon as she reached the door. "Granger, you do know what you are risking right now, right?" He asked.

Hermione turned around slowly, feeling, once again, that this could be a bad idea. She thought of Harry and Ron; they were fighting for their lives right now. She looked at Malfoy with her warrior-like eyes. "Yes, Malfoy," she said sternly. "I do understand."

Hermione saw Malfoy's face turn features, and she walked through the wall and down the hall.

Malfoy was left standing in the remains of the warmness in the room, and felt his insides burn with future regret. Who knows if his master would find him trailing along Granger? He couldn't just lie again. He could have just stayed at the school, letting Granger go by herself, but something told him that he should go with her.

Just incase.

* * *

McGonagall gave the witch a look of utter shock and walked in front of Hermione. "Ms. Granger, you could be risking your own _life_ for this task. I simply cannot let you go on this by yourself."

"Professor, Malfoy is going with me too, unless he wants to get a bad grade."

The professor sighed. "But still, with Mr. Malfoy, it will not be safe. You two are just a little less than 18. There are workers of Voldemort out there…" she trailed off.

Hermione bit her lip in thought. "Professor, if it means helping people in the war, I will do anything."

The professor thought. "Ms. Granger..."

"If I do not make it back, I promise you that all the blame is on myself," Hermione cut in.

McGonagall sighed. "Fine. But I am sending Hagrid with you two," she said.

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Professor." Being with Hagrid made her feel a little more secure, knowing that Hagrid could scare off anything that bothered him.

"If you are not back by 1:45 in the morning, I will send a search team out," the professor clarified. "I will meet you, Mr. Malfoy, and Hagrid near the front doors tomorrow at 11:00 at night."

Hermione nodded again, and started leaving the office in uncertainty.

The professor noticed her queasiness and stopped her. "Ms. Granger," she called after her.

Hermione swung around, and replied. "Yes, Professor?"

"Is there something bothering you?" she asked. "Other than just this project?"

Hermione looked deeply in the professor's eyes and sighed, knowing that she couldn't lie. "It's Harry and Ron." She felt tears prick her eyes.

McGonagall approached Hermione slowly. "Yes, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. 'Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul'."

Hermione's head shot up from those familiar words. "Oscar Wilde," Hermione whispered.

McGonagall nodded at the witch.

"Remember when you told me that in 6th year, when I was in deep grieving of Albus' death?" McGonagall asked. "That famous Muggle writer. Those words spoke to me. It told me to relive suffer by making new friends. Friends that touched my soul, and made me forget everything bad. "

Hermione listened with her utter shock, not knowing until now that she had helped someone.

"So, in my experience Ms. Granger, finding a new friend right now as worthy as Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, will help you move on," said the witch.

Hermione blinked a couple times, repeating those words over and over again.

Who could she find that was worthy enough to be like Harry and Ron?

The first person that popped into her mind was Michael.

Hermione breathed in and looked at the clock, thumping her foot rather gallingly.

_10:50…_

"Hermione?" asked that deep, and rather common voice.

Hermione clenched her fists, scolding herself to know that Michael would come back at this time. She slowly turned around to face him.

Michael was looking at her with insecurity as he leaned back casually against his door. "Why have you been avoiding me?" he asked, his warm voice almost broken.

Hermione closed her eyes, and grabbed her wand. "I'm not avoiding you Michael." She headed toward the door.

_10:51…_

Michael shot off from the door and approached her. "You _have_ been, Hermione. And I don't like it," he said.

Hermione reached for the door handle and pulled it, but Michael's hand slammed it back so it closed.

Hermione looked at the blank space, and then up to Michael. She felt his ardent body near hers. "Michael… I need to go," she said.

Michael kept his hand on the door. "Hermione tell me what's wrong."

Hermione looked at him. "Nothing Michael, just let me go," she ordered.

Michael grabbed her arms and made her face him so that she was against the door. "Hermione don't lie to me," he said in a voice that Hermione had never heard.

Hermione's arms shook, and she looked straight into his eyes. "Michael, stop it."

Michael gripped her arms tighter, almost to the point where it was pinching her skin. "Hermione please. What did I do?" he said more softly.

Hermione shook her head at him. "Michael, you did nothing. I'm like that everyday," Hermione lied.

Michael studied her face, and opened his mouth to say something, but a rash knocking was at the door. "Granger! You set this date, you make it!"

Hermione almost sighed in relief that Malfoy had come at the exact point of time where she was trapped in a situation with Michael.

Michael's features turned cold and he looked at Hermione. "Are you dating him?" he asked decisively.

Hermione let loosed from his grip and rubbed her arms. "No," she said violently to him. And with that, she opened the door, and slammed it shut.

"Granger, are you kidding me? Being late for something that you planned?" Malfoy spat as he walked down the stairs.

"It wasn't my fault," Hermione said softly.

Malfoy snorted. "Of course not! It was your books wasn't it?" he said sarcastically.

Hermione crossed her arms and walked down the hall without saying anything.

Malfoy noticed she was quiet for a minute or so and faced her, seeing that her head was slightly tilted down, and her chocolate curls were covering her cheeks. He then noticed a shine near her cheekbones, and saw that it was a tear. "Granger are you crying?" he asked stopping.

Hermione foolishly wiped the tear away and turned her face away from him. "I have allergies," she muttered.

"Doesn't look like allergies to me. Your eyes aren't red," he said, as he observed her eyes.

Hermione inhaled a breath and stood up straight. "Let's just keep walking. I'm already late as it is." Hermione started striding down the hall.

Hermione and Malfoy arrived in front of the school. There, standing, was Professor McGonagall and Hagrid.

"Why the hell is that big, great oaf here?" Malfoy spat softly.

The old witch caught his words, and her head turned to him like an alerted dog. "Mr. Malfoy," she shushed quietly. Hermione felt a little relieved, knowing that Hagrid didn't hear that.

McGonagall gathered the three around her and looked at all them sincerely. "Now, Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy. You must stay with Hagrid, unless you have direct access to knowing where he is and you are not that far away." She faced Hagrid. "You must be in charge of them, and know their whereabouts, Rubeus."

Hagrid nodded. "Yes, Minerva."

McGonagall looked back at the two students. "Do not make foolish decisions, and right as you find the plant, take it, and Apparate right back here. Do not talk to anyone. If you see anything suspicious, tell Hagrid right away."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said. Malfoy just stood there.

Hermione and Malfoy walked over to Hagrid, then McGonagall stopped Hermione. Hermione turned around to face the old witch. "Yes, Professor?"

McGonagall placed her hands on Hermione's shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. "I'm counting on you."

Hermione grinned a little, and walked over to Hagrid. The three of them grabbed to each others arms, (Malfoy being very uneasy about it), and they all kept repeating the words, "Forest of Dusk" until they felt the icy whoosh of the winter's night whistle in their ears.

* * *

A/N: I know this was short, but I thought this would be a good place to cut off so it wouldn't leave you with a huge cliffhanger like it would later on in the story. :) I'm already working on the chapter right now, so it will hopefully be posted in a few days. Thanks for reading!

Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize.

-IM xoxxox


	12. The Forest of Dusk

**Disclaimer:** Ok let me make this quick; I do not own the Harry Potter series.

* * *

Chapter 11: The Forest of Dusk

Hermione felt the thump of the ground beneath her vibrate through her feet as she steadied herself. The snow crunched as she landed on the ground, and she could already feel the snow's unnerving iciness melt on her warm boots. The grey sweater, the thick jacket, and the jeans she was wearing were barely enough to keep her warm for long. The snow already started biting her legs.

"'R we 'ere, 'Ermione?" Hagrid asked out of the silence.

Hermione took a long look at the whole panorama of darkness in front of her. The forest was vast, and covered with thick, gray, fog. The tips of the pine trees were clothed with the white ice. The jet-black sky added distress to the insubstantial forest, and Hermione started to regret her actions. She nodded. "Yes, this is it," she said softly, her breath ghosting the air like smoke.

Hagrid nodded and held out his lantern in front of him. "Let's go," he said as the three of them started walking down the small hill.

"Granger. What the hell did you put me into?" Malfoy growled behind Hermione, as she heard his footsteps crunch in the snow behind her.

Hermione kept staring at the forest. "I don't know, but all we need to do is find _Mortie Nocte._"

Malfoy cursed silently. "If I die, Granger…" Malfoy hissed.

"Oh quit your whining, Malfoy. I thought Slytherins were always eager to fight," Hermione uttered.

Malfoy scoffed. "Yes, we are, but not with a Gryffindor and a big fool."

Hermione's eyes shot to Hagrid, hoping that he didn't hear. Luckily, he hadn't.

"You better learn to use that mouth of yours more wisely, Malfoy. Stop saying useless things that no one cares about," Hermione scolded under her breath.

"Shut up, Granger. No one asked for your thoughts on what comes out of my mouth," Malfoy spat.

Hagrid turned to the two and stopped walking. "Stop 'yer arguing, 'ye two!" he exclaimed.

Hermione quickly shut her mouth as Malfoy just cursed at Hagrid under his breath.

The three walked in silence to the front of the forest, and they stopped as they did by Hagrid's command.

Hermione gaped in anxiety in the obscure forest in front of her. There was literally nothing but darkness. The most agile thing in the forest was either the roots or tips of the pine trees that were lit by the full moon. It smelled of a strong piney scent that brought Christmas in Hermione's senses.

Hermione checked her watch.

"11:25," she said aloud so Malfoy and Hagrid could hear her.

Hagrid did sort of an uneasy grunt as he nodded and turned to the two. "'Right, now listen up 'ye two. 'Ye have 'yer wands, correct?"

Hermione nodded and Malfoy just gave a tilt of the head to say yes.

"'Right, now we will be split up into 2 groups. That way we will find the plant easier. 'Ermione you go with Malfoy, and I'll be on another trail. We will send up a blue light in the trees, so that way it won't attract any attention to the outside of the forest. Blue means 'yer okay. Green means to meet up somewhere. Red means you need help, or 'ye don't know were 'ye are. Understand? Do not talk to anyone 'ye don't know. Do not go far, unless we are together as a group," Hagrid explained.

Hermione was a little surprised of Hagrid's great plan, then again, McGonagall might have told Hagrid the plan. She nodded with uncertainty, as Malfoy did no gesture whatsoever.

Hermione sighed and gripped her wand. "Alright. The plant will be tricky to find, no doubt, so we have to have very attentive vision. At near midnight, the plant will start to bud, and in the first minute or few of midnight, the plant will burst into a flower, according to the book. It must be touching at least some moonlight, so look for open places near big trunks with an open branch space, or around them. The more moonlight, the better."

"When it blooms, there is a blue, turquoise light that will surround it. It will be easily recognizable. Take it out from the deep roots carefully, and put it in a good structure that you can conjure," Hermione explained to the three.

Once everyone had gotten it, even though it was a mouthful, Hermione felt ready to find that plant, even if it cost her life.

Hermione breathed in the chilling air and exhaled slowly. "Alright. Let's go." Hermione took a step in the forest and started walking with a faster pace, being sure to find that plant in time.

Malfoy soon trailed behind with husky breaths and wand in hand. Hagrid had already distanced away from the two at least 30 feet away, until he completely disappeared in the fogginess.

Hermione started looking at the trees and bent down near the trunks with open branches. With every unsuccessful look, her lip pursed and Hermione's started walking faster.

"Granger, you look like you're going to hurl if you don't find that plant," Malfoy dictated.

"Well at least you can try and help. This can help lives, Malfoy," Hermione mentioned, still hastily searching for the open branched trees.

Malfoy grunted and searched a tree to the left of him. "Well you didn't have to bring me along."

Hermione turned around with a disapproving look on her face. "Malfoy, if you are dead, would you like to come back to life?" she asked.

Malfoy looked at her face, which included her flushed cheeks, either from her anger, which he found amusing, or the cold. "It depends…" he started.

Hermione twisted her lip at the Slytherin. "It depends on wha-"

She was cut off by a threatening crushing sound. The two shot their faces toward the direction, knowing as a reflex to point their wands at the sound.

"What the hell was that?" Malfoy hissed, staring into complete fogginess.

Hermione shook her head slowly, and gripped her wand firmly. "As I told you before, this forest is called the Forest of Dusk for a reason," she murmured.

Hermione saw a flicker of blue in the corner of her eye, and turned her head to the blue light that flew in through the tall trees. It was Hagrid's light. She pointed her wand in the air and cast a blue light as well, responding that they were okay.

Hermione looked back at the sound and kept walking forward. Malfoy followed her, still mentally kicking himself to go on this search with her.

* * *

For about 10 minutes, Hermione and Malfoy had been searching with no luck. Hermione got more and more tired with every step she took. The cold was unbearable, and her legs and crouching down every second or two would put strain on her muscles frequently.

Malfoy had had enough of this search and leaned against a tree. "Granger, we're never going to find that bloody plant," he drawled.

Hermione turned her weary neck around and shot him a death glance. "That's because you Slytherins give up so easily."

Malfoy snorted. "No, we don't. We just don't want to do things that don't concern us."

Hermione sighed and got up off the tree. "It's just you Malfoy." She started searching at a slower pace.

Malfoy watched her back and smirked. "Well don't you know me as a foul cockroach?" He got off the tree and started walking after her.

Hermione checked her watch. "Malfoy, I've grown. I don't want to hate you anymore. I thought that we could, at least, try to be nice to each other this year, but apparently it didn't turn out the way I wanted it to."

Malfoy felt shocked by her words. Had she wanted to get along with him all this time? Bearing in mind that all those past years they fought, she had wanted to be friendly with him? Malfoy vaguely remembered when she apologized to him for his strained liability at school in 6th year.

He approached her. "Granger. We fight. It's what we do."

Hermione noticed something moving from behind him on the ground. Black vines started reaching out to his shins, and Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Malfoy, move!" she shouted, instantly making a confused Draco run to the side.

A slam from the vines that had failed to grab Draco's legs made him look at the opaque plant that had almost grabbed him.

Malfoy caught his breath. "What-"

"Snargaluff," Hermione cut in. "It disguises itself as a dead tree stump, and the vines leap out to catch its prey."

Malfoy looked at the plant as it seemed to drag itself back in the tree stump.

Hermione looked at him, studying his grey eyes. "I want to ask you something." She said softly.

Malfoy shrugged and waited for her question. After complete silence, he got anxious.

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head. "Never mind." She hesitantly tried to peel her way out of the situation. Hermione was about to ask him about his Dark Mark, and if she could see it or not. She decided that now was not the time.

Draco scoffed. "You change your mind a lot of the times, Granger. This 7th year, you have been changing your questions before you ask them," Malfoy reminded her.

Hermione pursed her lips at him and spun around, resuming her mission, which was willingly interrupted by her stupid questions. She checked her watch again.

"15 minutes till midnight," Hermione dithered out. She shot a glance to Malfoy. "We have to hurry."

The witch started her speed of searching, while Malfoy did more the same, but less interested.

_No bud, no leaf, no glow, not bloody anything!_

Hermione didn't feel ready to give up. The bud should have been seen ever since they got here, so she wasn't willing to waste a handful of lives by giving up.

Malfoy stood up straight to fix the arch in his back, when he spotted a tiny blue speck at least two trees away.

"Granger, is that the plant?" he asked never leaving his eyes off the plant.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at him. And faced her vision toward where he was staring at.

And as if God had come to Hermione, she widened her eyes with shock. Her eyes shot to her watch, which showed 5 minutes till midnight.

"Y-yes! It is!" she sputtered, nearly falling over with excitement.

She spun around to Malfoy and showed an actual happy grin to him. "Nice eye, M-"

A massive explosion in between them cut them both off. Hermione was shot 8 feet in the air, and her heart hammered with stunned beats. Malfoy had been thrown back too, but he skidded across the icy ground and hissed at the sharp pain in his back. Hermione collided with the ground and cried out in pain, as she was sure she had sprained something in her body.

Hermione hacked from the dust and dirt that flew in the air to where the explosion happened. Her hands had been cut with wounds like glass shards, and she desperately search for the source of the blast.

_Where was Malfoy?_

She crawled to her wand, which was sprawled across the ground, and she winced with every movement. She looked up to see Malfoy, wide-eyed, and alert. Flashes started approaching him, and Hermione saw through the slightly faded dust that he was fighting someone.

"Granger! Get the plant! Now!" He shouted at her, still avoiding and summoning spells.

Hermione clenched her fists to push herself off the ground and run to the plant. She had no idea what happened just seconds ago, but this forest was treacherous. But, however, Malfoy was fighting someone. A tree can't shoot those spells. It had to be a person.

Hermione tried as best she could to run to the plant, even though another load of shots were flying after her. Hermione dodged the spells and kept running like her life depended on it. The spells crashed into trees and knocked them over like a stampede of bulls. Hermione aimed loosely at the attacker, which she couldn't see, and summoned the spell with all her might.

"_Bombarda_!" she yelled, causing an explosion on the grass to occur. Hermione hoped she hit the unknown attacker.

The spells had stopped hitting her, and Hermione ran her last few steps before crouching down by the plant. It was, indeed, _Mortie Nocte. _Its surroundings started to glow blue like it had said in the book. A beacon of moonlight shown down on it like a spotlight of success. Hermione couldn't help but smile. The leaves started growing and spreading apart, as it was starting to bloom. Hermione had to wait until it bloomed to pick it up, otherwise, it would die.

Hermione shot her eyes back to Malfoy, who was still fighting the attacker. She thought of going back to help him, but she couldn't give this up now. He was a strong wizard anyway.

The plant had bloomed. It was easily obvious by its beauty; the leaves were dark, forest green, and healthy, the flower was so delicate, and ever so astonishing with magnificence, as the navy, sea-like color enclosed it. Hermione pointed her wand at the ground under the plant, ensuring that she could safely remove the plant. She conjured a cozy base for the plant, and put it in with both her hands so it could stay safe.

Hermione held the object in her wand, and reached for her wand, extremely pleased that she had gotten the plant. A force shot her back on the ground, 5 feet away from the plant and her wand. She cried out in pain, as the force stay there like 1- pound weights.

She frantically searched around, and she found a darkly dressed man, with rotten teeth as he smiled at her. Hermione tried shifting, but he kneeled down on her chest, his face studying hers.

"Where do you think you are going with that plant, gorgeous?" he sneered, his face now relatively closer to hers.

Hermione used her right hand to smack him as hard as she could. "Get off of me!" she ordered.

His face flung to the side as her fist met his face. The man's face slowly turned back, his teeth still showing with his smile.

"Oh, feisty little girl aren't you?" He started stroking her hair with his long yellow nails. "You could be very useful to me, little witch."

Hermione spat in his face in disgust. "Get away from me you vermin!" she screamed in his face.

The man's mouth curved in revulsion as he wiped at his face with his sleeve. He stood up and looked at the other man. He looked back at the plant, and then back to Hermione who was steadying herself on her elbows. He took out his wand slowly, like it was a long sword.

"I've been nice to you, deary, but you won't take it. I need that plant, but I guess you are desperate to keep it all to yourself and your boyfriend over there," the man said as slow as his wand was being drawn out.

Hermione felt anger overcome her. "Why don't you just find another yourself?" Hermione's eyes shot over to where her wand and the plant were being picked up by the other big man.

"Put those down," she ordered. The two men just simply smirked at her.

The man had his wand drawn out and clicked his tongue. "Will you let us take the plant, beautiful?" he drawled.

Hermione shot up and tried to snatch her wand, but the man kicked her down on the ground again. Her hands shook from her previous cuts.

He placed his dirty boot on Hermione's chest and snatched her wrist. Hermione cried out in pain as he gripped her wrist like he was going to break her bones. He brought his lips near her ear.

"Whom do you work for? Are you a student?" he whispered.

Hermione couldn't move any part of her body as they were all held down. "Bugger off," she hissed.

The man looked at her face and brought his wand up to her shaking hand.

"Ignis Sectis," he said.

The wand dispersed a fiery flame and a cut entered Hermione's skin slowly. She gasped as the pain felt like lava and a knife on her hand. He smirked as she cried out and stopped the pain. Hermione breathed in and out with heaving breaths as the pain barely resided. She looked at her shaking hand, which was slit with blood flowing out of it.

The man gripped her wrist tighter. She cried out again.

"Will you tell me, my beauty?" he asked in the deceiving tone of his voice.

"Sod off," she spluttered through her heaving breaths. Her whole forehead was covered with a thin coat of sweat.

The man shot the spell again and this time he held it there longer, like someone was slitting her hand. Hermione screamed in pain this time, as it was more powerful, and try to pry him off, but he just smirked at her, watching her expression. Hermione felt her hand burn like a fire was being lit on her hand. She felt her warm blood trickle down the slit, and she clenched her eyes shut to block out the pain.

"Do you give in, deary? Who do you work for? Is it Purebloods or Mudbloods?" he sneered.

Hermione didn't answer, and could barely speak a word out of all the pain her hand was facing. She tried to stop her whimpers, but they just kept protruding out of her mouth. Her heart throbbed against her chest and her breaths kept heaving in and out.

_Oh, Godric, my hand…_

He gripped her hand tighter, almost till her fingers were blue. Hermione felt her vision grow blurry, and she faintly saw a flashing light in front of her. She closed her eyes, thinking that that was just the spell someone had hit her with to hurt her even more, but she didn't feel any pain at all. Instead, she felt the weight lifted off her, and her wrist was let go.

Hermione barely knew what was going on, and she saw flashes of blue, green, and white in front of her eyes. She felt her vision fading away, but she forced herself to stay conscious so she could infer what had happened.

Shouts and explosions were heard from in front of Hermione, and it all came to a halt when her vision was dark.

_Did she become unconscious? _

No. She heard a voice. A voice that was calling her name.

"_Granger, Granger_…"

Hermione felt a little bit of brightness peak in her eyes as she saw bleach blonde hair in front of her.

"Granger," the voice repeated.

Hermione felt two brisk hands that were sparked with warmness, gently grab her upper arms and sit her up against the tree. Hermione blinked a couple times and saw Draco Malfoy kneeling in front of her.

"Malfoy," she croaked in disbelief, her hand still stinging with pain from the spell.

His face was somehow filled with some concern and urgency as he studied her face. His pale skin was no longer a porcelain complexion, and was now smeared with light grey smudges. Malfoy's hair was soiled too.

"What happened to those men?" Hermione murmured, looking around. She eyes fixed on the ground near her, as she saw all the three men sprawled across the ground. Her eyes widened. "Did… did you kill them?"

Malfoy's shook his head. "No. I simply made them unconscious. I plan to erase their minds. They are Snatchers, and they could of told You-Know-Who a story about seeing a Muggle with a Pureblood.

Snatchers? She was glad she didn't tell them anything or else they would've of told their master, who was Voldemort.

Hermione licked her lips. "The plant! Where's the plant?" she asked suddenly, that her whole body almost jumped up.

"Granger, calm down. I have it here." He gestured his head toward the ground a foot away.

Hermione looked where he nodded and she sighed.

Had Malfoy saved her?

That was the real question right now.

Well obviously he did, but why? Maybe because he didn't want to get into trouble, but she didn't know.

Hermione suddenly noticed a cut near his forehead as she almost dazed off watching a space behind him. "Malfoy, your head…" she started her eyes wide from the injury, which was seeping through his bleach blonde hair.

"I'm fine, Granger," he cut in. His eyes grew wide when his eyes reached Hermione's hand. "Granger…" he took her wrist, but not like how the Snatcher had grabbed it. His touch was feather light, and chilling and ecstatic at the same time.

Hermione looked at in disgust and fear. "I never heard about that spell. I guess it was another Dark Art spell that Voldemort's servants use."

Malfoy stopped studying it for a moment, his mind trailing back to how he just hurt the Snatchers. He knew all three of them. Mevilous, Nathaniel, and Gregory. What if the Dark Lord found out he had done this? If Granger had never gone looking for that plant in the first place, none of this would've happened. His left arm started pinching him, like it was reminding him to wake up.

Hermione felt Malfoy examine the cut wit his eyes, and his finger were cupping her wrist gently, like it was broken. His touch cooled her throbbing hand down, and his piney, minty scent refreshed her fuddled senses.

Malfoy got out his wand and pointed it at her scruffy cut on her hand. Hermione inhaled an uneasy breath as he murmured a spell she had made. The light, comforting light permeated Hermione's wound and it instantly healed up, leaving nothing but barely visible scars.

Hermione studied her hand in satisfaction, feeling glad to know that the spell she had constantly been testing with different combinations had worked.

Her coffee dipped eyes met up with Malfoy's grey ones. "Thank you, Draco," she said softly, like melted butter.

Malfoy's eyes widened a little to the saying of his first name by the person who he had loathed for so long. His gut felt jumbled up. He didn't know what to think after she had just called him by his first name.

Hermione summoned her wand and she studied Malfoy's head.

Hermione cleared her throat a little. "Erm… may I?" she asked uncomfortably, feeling that Malfoy would just swat her hand away.

Malfoy just merely shrugged, and Hermione took that as a yes more than a no.

The cut was about and inch from the middle of his forehead, and it was on the scalp, hidden by some pieces of his blonde hair. The blood seeped through his light hair, and that made it easily for Hermione to see that it was a wound.

She leaned forward on her knees so she could reach the desired spot on his head.

Draco felt her fingers tickling through his hair, finding it's way to the actual wound. Something about her warm touch made his worries wash away. It was like having a sun after 10 days of rain. His eyes trailed down to her neck, which was covered almost entirely by her chaotic hair. Granger's neck, effortlessly, looked exactly like her skin on her arm, all peachy, soft, and flawless.

"Alright, hold still," said Granger. Her tepid breath feathered against his forehead, blocking out the chilliness from the forest. She murmured the same spell, and Draco felt a tiny pinch on his head.

Hermione studied the head again and nodded. "It worked the same for the head. I think this is a convenient spell for any wound. Particularly minor ones," Hermione explained.

She leaned back and grabbed the plant, which, by her observation, looked healthy.

Malfoy examined the beautiful plant in her hands. The flower was cozily snug with the soil and dirt, but it looked a little broken when Gregory was hastily carrying it in his arms.

"Alright. We have to find Hagrid and get out of here," Hermione supposed, looking at the dark trees all around her.

Malfoy nodded and stood up, still carrying his wand in hand. He stared at the unconscious bodies on the ground. "Should we erase their memories?" he asked.

Hermione stood up, and looked at them in shock, somehow remembering the words of erasing someone's mind.

Her parents.

She was thinking of erasing their minds because they had to be safe.

They had to be safe from Voldemort who was killing countless of Muggles by the second.

If she erased her parents' minds, they wouldn't remember her at all.

"Granger, do you know how?" Malfoy asked breaking her stance.

Hermione licked her lips. "Y-yes. I do," she stuttered out nervously.

Hermione drew out her wand and pointed at the first man who had used the dreadful spell on her hand. She bit her lip nervously and directed her wand at his crumpled body.

And with one hesitant breath in, she whispered.

_Obliviate._

* * *

A/N: Hey! I hope you all enjoyed it! Last chapter, I used a quote from Oscar Wilde, and incredible writer. I hope you thought this chapter wasn't cheezy! After reading a lot of other people's Dramione writing, my writing seems so bad! :( I love you guys for reading my stories! Constructive criticism is always appreciated! See you all on the next chapter!

Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize.

Love always, Ice Monsta :) xo


	13. Nightmares

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Harry Potter series. Can my readers read now?

* * *

Chapter 12: Nightmares

Hermione wondered if there was a great god for her that would always save her from the bad things. Or, it could've just been karma. She knew herself as a well-behaved person almost all the time, even the ones she hated. Hermione knew nothing would destroy her life. The worst thing that happened was Harry and Ron leaving, but this year, she felt as if her worthy ways had all gone to a waste, because the war could never be stopped. Almost every night, she would cry herself to sleep, clenching on to letters from Harry and Ron, which were now stained by her tears.

Hermione missed them so much, that she would run off to them now, without any safety just to see their faces. Hermione bit into the tips of her blankets, trying to make her cries less noticeable so Michael wouldn't wake up. Her whole body quivered to her cries, and she'd have to use a spell every morning to freshen her red, puffy eyes. Her studies had been less interesting, hence she was Hermione Granger, and it was almost too easy for her to do.

McGonagall had already noticed this sign, and would always invite her for a cup of tea in her office to help her cope, but no matter how many times McGonagall had told her it was going to be alright, it just brought more tears to her eyes. Despite the fact Harry and Ron hadn't written in weeks, she felt more and more anxious, scared that they would have been captured, or worse, killed.

When Hermione returned with Malfoy from the search of the plant, McGonagall noticed the dirt marks and cuts on their body, and she frantically asked questions, ordering them to go to the hospital wing. Hermione turned down the order, although that was rude, but she assured her that they were both fine. The only thing that was hurting now, was the enormous quantity of questions that were bouncing in Hermione's head

Hermione had no choice than to do what McGonagall had said to both of them. If she had rejected her offer any longer, she was sure that she would explode. Hermione didn't really have much pain, really. She glanced at Malfoy who furrowed his eyebrows at the teacher, making Hermione know that he would have denied her order even more. But, after long minutes, which drew by like hours past, and Hermione found herself stuck with the blonde again, walking toward the hospital wing.

There was nothing but the footsteps of the two students heard as they walked slowly toward the wing. Hermione wanted to ask him why he had healed her, because, knowing who he was, he would have just left her there like filthy trash right at the spot.

The 5-minute walk passed slowly like a turtle crossing the road. The two of them hadn't spoke, or looked at each other the whole way through the corridors. As they reached the wing, the peppy nurse studied the two students attentively with speed, and immediately saw the sudden cuts and bruises which made her go straight to her work.

"Your skin is filthy, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger," she explained to them with her shrill voice, gesturing the both of them to the two separate beds that were one bed away from each other.

Hermione sat on the white, soft bed that made her a little drowsy as she sank a little into it. "We were looking for this plant that could bring back people from the dead," Hermione explained. "It was quite the hassle to look for it, and that is why we are filthy."

Madam Pomfrey did a slight grumble but cleared her throat. "Well I just need to find out what harm has been done," she said as she checked Malfoy first, seeing to it that he was intolerant.

Hermione watched as Madam Pomfrey asked him where he felt most pain, and he just shrugged, scowling at the nurse as she got her wand and waved it at his whole body. She let out a 'hmf' as he flinched to reveal a pink pinpoint to his left arm. The nurse identified it as an injury that was close to general, but mostly minor.

Hermione watched as the hasty nurse rubbed a lotion on his upper arm, which was noticeably rounded and muscular without him flexing. She then wrapped a thin wrap on his arm, pulling his sleeve down.

The nurse sighed as she stared at the clock. "You have to stay overnight-" she stopped, "well I should say _morning_ for your arm to heal up." She handed him a towel. "Now clean that filth off your face while you're at it."

Malfoy gave her an annoyed look that was about to burst in return. But knowing his fights could lead him to controversy with his school actions, he just started rubbing his face with the cloth, feeling the warmth overcome his face.

The nurse returned to Hermione who was patiently waiting for the rushed woman.

"Now Ms. Granger, anywhere particular where it hurts?" The nurse sighed, indicating that she was weary.

Hermione rutted her eyebrows for a second, and looked down at her chest and placed her trifling hand on it. "Here," she said.

Malfoy rubbed his eye with the cloth and glanced at the chaotic haired witch where he saw her uncomfortable face as the nurse put some pressure on her chest.

Hermione let out a indignant breath as she felt like her ribs where broken.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Just as I thought. A majorly bruised chest. How on earth did you get this, Ms. Granger?" She asked.

Hermione bit her lip and sighed. "I tripped over a rock and landed on a tree stump," she lied.

The nurse clicked her tongue and took out her wand. She said a spell and Hermione felt her chest and lungs feel compressed as if two magnets were being attracted. Hermione but her lip to prevent any pained sounds from projecting out of her mouth.

The nurse stopped the spell and put her wand back on her table. "Well, Ms. Granger," she hustled over to the countertop and shuffled through clinking bottles. "The injury should heal up over night. I cast a spell that did most the work, but seeing that it is already morning, you will have to stay here until class starts."

Hermione suddenly turned her eyes toward Malfoy who, clearly, caught the whole conversation. His face was usual, although with his typical scowl and uneasy look, but his white-knuckled fists were clenching the bed sides so tight even Hermione could see the small dents in the metal beginning to form.

"I hope there is no problem," came the woman's voice, making Hermione turn her head back to her as she noticed the two looking utterly at each other.

Hermione shook her head timidly, showing her that she was not someone who got everything she wanted.

Madam Pomfrey sighed and nodded. "Good, now get rest, and change into these robes." She tossed them two worn out robes. "I bet you two don't want to sleep in those dirty clothes. Good night!" She called as she hustled out the door, leaving only the candles burning.

The doors closed, leaving complete silence between the two students. Hermione rubbed the robe with her fingers. "Are you going to-"

"No, I'm not bloody changing into this," he growled shaking the robe in his hand and flinging it to the floor.

Hermione sighed. "Well I'm changing," Hermione got off the bed.

Malfoy eyed her. "You better not change right in front of me, Granger. Like you have any body that wants to be seen."

Hermione scoffed. "I bet at least 10 girls have changed in front of you, Malfoy. And I will not be one of them." She started walking to the dimly lit changing area and closed the curtain behind her.

Malfoy scoffed and collapsed his head back on the pillow, hopefully trying to sleep before the Gryffindor tried to start a conversation again.

A few minutes later, Hermione opened the changing drapes and walked out, feeling glad that she was out of her snow- wet clothes, into an unfashionable, but contented enough robe to get her through sleep.

She set her body on the bed and plopped her head down, staring at the ceiling. She wiggled under the covers, trying to block out the cold that crept its way into the castle's walls. Hermione crooked her head and saw the frequent rising and falling of Malfoy's figure that rested on one side. He slept with only one sheet, and Hermione wondered how he would keep warm all night.

Hermione didn't want to protest though, knowing it would lead to nowhere. She just sighed and brought her eyes back to the ceiling.

"Well, Malfoy, as seeing for today we have got one of the most powerful plants with luck, I'm certain that we have an O," Hermione pointed out.

Malfoy groaned and moved around in the other bed. "Granger, I could care less. We almost bloody died tonight. You were lucky I was there to use that spell to knock that Snatcher out," he growled in the darkness.

Hermione rubbed the bed sheet in between her fingers. "Did you... I mean... Why did you..." She fuddled.

"Just spit it out, Granger," she heard his voice broach.

Hermione closed her eyes. "Why did you save me? I know you hate me, and so you could care less if I die or not. You said it not 3 weeks or more ago," she said firmly.

Malfoy didn't answer and silence was welcomed again.

Then he finally answered. "Granger, I'm not stupid. Trust me, seeing you get killed could be entertaining for me, but not for someone who could expel me."

"Why do you care so much about school now?" Hermione asked.

"Because..." Malfoy thought about how getting expelled would risk his mother's life. "My mother would be angry."

Hermione brought her blanket up to her chin more. "Malfoy, is it true you don't have the Dark Mark?" She asked quietly.

He didn't answer for some time, which scared Hermione, knowing that there could be a Deatheater in the room.

"Granger, I'm tired. Good night," he spat out.

"But-" Hermione started.

"I said good night!" He shouted firmly.

Hermione gaped at the ceiling and studied how the pale moonlight drew light patterns in the stone. She couldn't help but think that the whole story of how Draco's mother was false.

But he was right; she did feel tired after all the encounters she had last night. She fluttered her eyes shut, her mind only feeling the whole world going blank.

Malfoy didn't go to bed, and was just gaping at the wall until he was certain the Gryffindor was asleep. He thought that 20 minutes was reasonable, considering the fact that he lied to Granger about him being tired.

Malfoy turned his head back to the sleeping student. She wasn't moving, and only the rising and falling of her breathing was heard.

He grabbed his wand from the table next to him and quietly placed his bare feet on the floor. He shivered slightly to the chill, but then slipped in his shoes as quiet as the night.

Malfoy looked over his shoulder at the sleeping Gryffindor, insuring that she was asleep. He stood up and pointed his wand just in front of him.

"Muffilato," he whispered. The wand dispersed a clear wave and it surrounded him like a bubble. He then closed his eyes to imagine his pine-smelling home and the loud crack was concealed by the spell.

Malfoy landed in a matter of seconds, the familiar smell returning to him. His breathed in deeply, not opening his eyes, but the smell of rusty blood was smelled.

"I was wondering when you would be coming, Draco."

Malfoy kept his eyes closed. "I was wondering too, my Lord. And it was practical at this time when I had more to offer to you."

He did not answer for some time. "What did you bring me this time?"

Malfoy opened his eyes, seeing at first the sight of dark blood and mangled bodies sprawled across the floor.

* * *

Hermione picked up a stone off the shiny bay and chucked it in the water, hoping to skip it across a few feet. The sun gleamed across the still water, and its rays flickered on Hermione's slightly freckled skin.

She sighed as the sun's warm rays caressed against her skin, hovering a shield, as it seemed over her body. Hermione glanced down at another rock and tossed it, but making an unsuccessful plop in the water, disturbing the water's stillness.

"Hermione," a voice called behind her.

Hermione turned her head and saw her two best friends standing and smiling at her.

"Harry," she sputtered in disbelief. "R-Ron." She started walking toward them. "You found the Horcruxes? Did you destroy them?"

They laughed, but in a deceiving way. "Hermione. Oh didn't you know?"

Hermione stopped. "Know what?"

They smiled at her. "We are dead."

Hermione's eyes didn't blink. "What?" She whispered.

_Dead? No._

"We are just souls, Hermione. Didn't you get our letter?" Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head.

_What letter?_

"No. You didn't write anything for at least 2 weeks."

"Well of course we didn't! We died! Isn't it obvious? Malfoy's dad killed Ron and Voldemort killed me!" Harry said.

Hermione felt knots in her throat. Malfoy's dad would never do that if he didn't work for Voldemort. She shook her head frantically. "No! You are alive! I know it! Malfoy's dad doesn't work for Voldemort anymore!"

Ron sighed. "Hermione. We had been writing you once a week. 2 weeks is unusual, don't you think?"

Hermione felt her eyes well up with tears. "No... No..." She gasped. "You're still alive."

Harry smiled. "We aren't, Hermione."

"Yes you are! I will prove it to you! See?!" She ran toward them and reached for them. But as she tried grabbing them, they dissolved through her fingers like smoke.

Their ghosted spirits bounded her like a case and the whole lake turned black, and the sun turned to a big ball of blackness.

Hermione felt a weight push her down, as she looked around panicked. "Harry! Ron!" She screamed.

A small light appeared as a door from a few feet away opened and a shadowy figure started making his way toward her. It moved by her feet and Hermione could not mistake his face.

Lucius Malfoy.

He smirked at her. Another dark figure from behind him watched in amusement, but he had a much darker soul, just by the feel of the coldness in the room. It was hard to make out who it was by the shadow covering part of his face.

It wasn't anyone Hermione had seen before, but the disturbing language he whispered made Hermione know exactly who he was.

"Voldemort," she whispered at the figure behind Lucius.

"Such a pity that those two had to go without you. Seems like they could of used a little help, now couldn't they?" sneered the blonde.

Hermione felt her whole body shiver. "N-no. They... They aren't dead," she murmured.

Lucius chuckled. "Even for a smart witch, she can't even tell the littlest details."

Hermione's chest heaved up and down. They hadn't been writing for the past few weeks. "No. That's not true. Harry and Ron are alive."

"Well didn't you just see them my dear? They were just souls. They were merely telling you that they were dead. I killed your poor ginger friend. Potter was no match for the Dark Lord. They wrote but didn't send the letter because on that Wednesday, my master and I caught them and brought them to the Malfoy Manor."

Hermione was out of words. Her tears welled up in her eyes even more, but she refused to cry. "Stop! They aren't dead!"

"Yes, stupid girl, they are!"

"Shut up!" She shouted reaching for her wand, but shocked that she did not find it anywhere.

Lucius shook his head and chuckled. "And thanks to my son, we see you now." He drew out his wand.

Hermione's eyes widened and shook frantically. "No... Malfoy would never-"

"Oh but he did. He just didn't tell you." He stuck his wand at her body.

"Prepare to join your little friends, Mudblood, for my name will be known for killing the last of the trio," Lucius sneered, his face in a tight smile.

"No," Hermione murmured shaking.

He just laughed.

"NO!" She shouted.

"Avada Kedavra!" He shouted.

Hermione jolted awake screaming. She opened her eyes and the blurry vision from her foggy tears cleared up as she noticed Draco Malfoy leaning over the side of her bed and studying her with alarm as his arms held her upper arms.

"Granger," Malfoy said quietly, his eyes pierced into hers. "It was just a dream."

Hermione looked into his ice eyes and shook her head. "N-no. It wasn't a dream," she stuttered.

Malfoy studied her tear stained face and dark lashes. Her cheeks were red and her shiny, honey orbs shined frantically. He noticed her tiny freckles were sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. He was so close to touch them. "It was. Now go to sleep," he whispered.

Hermione felt the cool air touch her nose, and the tingling peppermint smell fill her lungs. She noticed her hands were gripping tightly to his biceps. She nodded uncertainly and Malfoy lowered her down back on the bed.

Malfoy took off her hands on his biceps he gently placed them on the bed.

He turned his head, but Hermione placed a hand on his arm. "Stay," she whispered.

Malfoy turned his head back around to the Gryffindor who had her eyes closed.

Stay?

Hermione Granger had told him to stay?

He watched her resting figure, as she looked peaceful this time. Her perfect lips were closed, which brought out there shape. The glowing of the dim candlelight smoldered on her skin, giving her a soft bronze look that made her seem like a stunning, classic picture.

He sat down on the chair next to her bed and leaned back, just watching her figure. Her tear steamed face was now dry, and pieces of hair stuck to her face.

Malfoy leaned over and stroked the maddening hairs away from her face, and placed his hand on her hair. He started stroking her hair slowly, insuring the hair was to stay away from her face. He studied her still figure and saw so many perfections that he had never been allowed to see. The dotted freckles on her cheek added the touch of innocence to her face, and her indulgent, creamy skin was so close to touch. Her eyebrows were fixed from many years ago when they were bushy like a beaver had made a nest on her forehead.

And her eyes...

Perfectly almond shaped, her closed eyes allowed the dappled parts of the candlelight rest on the hollows of her eyes, which gave an illusion of eye shadow makeup, which Granger never wore. His eyes trailed down to her nose, which was back to its normal color with freckles, and her Cupid's bow, perfectly shaped in between her nose and lips. The last stop was her lips.

Draco found it somewhat better when girls had bigger lips. But Granger had somewhat elfin lips that slightly pursed out to give them definition. This made Malfoy almost change his mind at the sight. The candlelight ghosted across her lips, letting it show as a mixture of nimble bronze and sheen.

The sniffy, know-it-all Gryffindor had more than just the courage of a lion, but also the features of a lost girl, girl that was usually dejected from the world around her. It came to Draco's attention that this project didn't just make him work with the Gryffindor he had hated for so long, but also to know her better.

Malfoy studied her whole feature again, from the top of her forehead, to her chin. His hand grazed across her hair again, insuring the hair was out of her face and moved her chocolate curls were now resting peacefully on her pillow. His one finger softly ran down the edge of her hairline down to her ear, and she softly breathed out through her nose, and leaned in to his touch.

Malfoy didn't do anything, although knowing that she was Hermione Granger and his father forbid him to even talk to a Mudblood. The Dark Lord had just, as he would say, promoted Draco. Which meant he could be trusted even more.

Draco didn't want to leave that night at the Manor though. He hadn't seen his mother, and that worried him. What if she was being tortured? What if she was hurt? He couldn't stand what would happen to his mother now. If he still remained faithful to the Dark Lord, his mother wouldn't get injured. If he remained faithful, nobody would find out his secret. He could stay in school to get a job somewhere, somewhere away from his torturous father. He could take his mother with him, so she wouldn't have to suffer the bitter coldness of his heart.

He sometimes even wondered why his mother had even married him in the first place.

His father wasn't a person, but he was more like the devil within. He hadn't ever said that he loved Draco. Not once.

That sort of pain lived with Draco forever.

But for some reason, this minute, this very second when he sat by the Gryffindor's side, all the pain seemed to vanish.

* * *

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, seeing the brick ceiling above her. She gaped at the ceiling, and turned her head to the side, seeing nobody in the room. She sat up wearily, stroking her somewhat not tangled hair out of her face. She felt confused, knowing that her hair was normally jumbled. She hopped out of her bed and checked the time.

6:00.

Classes started at 8.

Malfoy must have left early, she thought.

She shrugged and headed back to the heads dorm. Hermione stopped at the door and inhaled deeply. If Michael was going to lure her into another talk, she was going to leave.

She twisted the doorknob and quickly made her way toward her room and slammed the door. She thanked Godric for not even hearing anything in the room. The Gryffindor grabbed her fresh robes and clothes and took the dare again to reach her bathroom.

Hermione nearly collapsed on the door as she opened it and entered the bathroom. Luckily, nothing was heard again.

Michael was sweet and kind, but the fact that they were sharing Head's dorms and great friends, being more than that could end their friendship, which Hermione refused to take the dare for.

She dried herself up and shrugged on her school robes after she finished her shower. She tied her hair up in a bun, seeing that once again her hair was curly. Hermione was satisfied enough to finally _walk_ out of the bathroom instead of running out of it. Now since the time was close to class, getting away from Michael would be easier.

She sighed and opened the door, walking like a regular human being to the table to grab her stuff. She straightened the pile up and walked out the door, still, not hearing another sound other than her footsteps.

The whole day had passed quicker than a rabbit against a turtle. The last class with McGonagall was unnerving for Hermione though.

"Now class. Not any of you know about this, but last night at around 11, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger risked their lives to look for a plant that could save each and every one of your lives if you were severely injured or, in extreme cases, killed. Now, they encountered fears and monstrous beasts and creatures that could've taken their lives." She paused. "I want to recognize them as extremely hardworking, and nothing more than courageous students." She smiled at both the students.

Hermione looked around, quite embarrassed with the big announcement McGonagall had just given. Malfoy scowled and just sat there, clearly not wanting the attention either.

"For your reward, you won't have to work on the project for this day." The teacher said.

Hermione looked at Malfoy, waiting for his reaction. He just sat there, like he didn't hear anything.

"Thank you for finding Mortie Nocte," she finished.

A day without Malfoy? Could that be a good thing or a bad thing? There was something that was bugging her though. A tiny detail that she felt like she needed to talk about. She thought it was about Malfoy, but she didn't know.

Also, without their meetings, there would be more trouble with Michael.

The class ended and Hermione walked toward the door and turned her head back to Malfoy who's gaze caught with hers. And as if they both silently said goodbye, they walked away different directions, one toward the Slytherin area, and one to the Head's dorms.

* * *

The afternoon passed quietly, and Hermione spent her day just sprawled on her bed and reading. Michael had, weirdly enough, not bothered her, and she had just locked herself in her bedroom reading informational potion books.

She ate dinner with Ginny, once again letting her talk about her love life in front of her. She liked Harry, no doubt, but she felt as if Harry didn't like her back.

She worried that that one kiss in 6th year meant nothing. Hermione assured her that Harry indeed did think of her, seeming to it, as he never stopped talking about Ginny.

By the time Hermione walked back to the room, she closed the door, rubbing her head. She cleaned up and brushed her teeth, feeling ready to go to bed.

She sat down on the couch with her book and took notes while she studied.

"Hermione," a voice startled her. She turned her head, and closed her eyes for a second.

_Michael._

"Michael..." she started standing up.

He approached her slowly. "So you got that plant, as I heard in McGonagall's class."

She sighed and placed her book down. "Yeah I did," she said. Well, she had no place to run now. She had to deal with him.

He stopped walking and studied her face. "Did he hurt you?" He asked.

Hermione scoffed. "Malfoy couldn't hurt me, Michael."

"But still," he insisted walking closer to her.

Hermione looked at him and crossed her arms. "Michael, I swear. I'm fine."

Michael sighed, his golden eyes glistening against the light. "Hermione, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted."

Hermione looked away. "I guess it was improbable for you to corner me like that," she murmured.

Michael studied her eyes and approached her until he was right in front of her. "Yeah, I know. You don't know how sorry I am," his voice scratched desperately.

The Gryffindor looked back at him. "I understand, Michael. I accept your apology," she said.

Michael shook his head. "Hermione, I can't make it up to you like that."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, unfolding her crossed arms. "What do you mean?" She asked inquisitively.

Michael got even closer. "Words can't explain how sorry I am," he said.

Hermione was petrified. She felt her pulse throb. "I- I'm sorry. I can't do this, Michael," she said, her voice shaking.

His face turned concerned. "Why?" He asked.

Hermione looked right into his eyes. "You and I are best friends, and I can't jeopardize that. Especially with Harry and Ron gone," she said.

Michael brought his hand down to her arm. "Hermione," he started.

"Please Michael. I just don't feel that way about you."

Michael looked at her shocked, but then he brought his other hand to her cheek.

Hermione tried to protest, but he had already cut her off with a kiss. He kissed her desperately, but it wasn't too aggressive either. She wanted to pull away, but she had never kissed someone before, and now, she knew what it was like.

But, it wasn't as pleasing as she thought it would be, but she stood their motionless as their lips met.

They broke apart and Hermione looked at him breathless, just millimeters away from each other.

Michael studied her with caring eyes. Hermione's glistening eyes shook as she looked at him.

"Michael," she whispered. "I can't." She took his hand off of her cheek and neck. She felt tears prick at her eyes as she strode toward her room and slammed the door behind her.

Hermione collapsed on her bed and curled up in a little ball. She let tears fall silently, letting out her inconsolable troubles from within. Michael was great, no doubt, but until Harry and Ron came back, she couldn't take it an extra step.

Her mind ran around her two best friends, and her heart ached even more. She wanted a letter from them so badly, but...

Hermione's eyes went wide and still.

A flashback ran back to her from the night before.

Harry and Ron were saying they were dead, and Malfoy's father hit her with a spell, and she woke up.

She remembered seeing a faintly familiar face, cooing her to go to sleep.

Malfoy.

* * *

A/N: Oh my gosh! Hey guys! I am sorry about the absence, but, just as I promised, here is the chapter! I missed you guys so much! The next chapter is almost done so do not worry! My vacation was great, and I hope you guys had fun too! I hope you liked the chapter, (it would be better if you loved it), and I will post the next chapter as soon as I can! Thanks for being patient with me!

Please do not take any part of my story, or the plot without giving me credit, or my permission; please don't plagiarize.

I love you all! Muah! –Monster of Ice ;)


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